Gotham's Fire
by ksaan
Summary: Reports of a new type of criminal are being fed through the television. A criminal even more misunderstood than the Joker. Will the people of Gotham be able to survive another ring of fire? Will Batman be able to survive it alone? Will Bruce? Bruce/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: This is merely a work of fiction. I, do not in anyway, own the marvelous Batman (or Bruce :( ) All rights and ownership belong to DC comics. I DO own my plotline and Nicolette. Enjoy!**

**This is just a short prologue, just to introduce you to my original character and the time frame I've set. The actual story will be written in varying third-person narratives.**

The melee had finally ended.

They hoped.

That one dreadful evening in Gotham had been the final straw, the even that would determine the state of the city. Most of the citizens turned to flee, but the Joker's plan had worked; his point had been made. Harvey Dent, Gotham's white knight, had fallen. Thankfully no one except Commissioner Gordon, the Batman, and few others knew of Dent's treachery. And that's how they planned to keep it.

With the Joker locked up in Arkham, the city was ready to rebuild mentally and physically. The tables had turned; Batman, the hunter, was now the hunted. The police really didn't want to capture him, but they put on a good show. After the Joker, crime rings had paused a little, but then they came back full force. Drugs and weapons were making their way into the city, week after week, and the criminals were tougher- and smarter. The Batman was relentless though, do everything and anything he could.

* * *

It now dated six months after the Joker had been captured. New and old faces returned to Gotham, hoping for a fresh start. Nicolette Anderson, a Gotham native, noticed the new families in her upper-middle class neighborhood. It have her a spark of hope that things might get better.

Nicolette had lived in Gotham all her life. Her parents, professors at the U of G, brought her up in a ring of hard-worn professors and opinionated scholars. As an only child, she looked up to these people, leading a quiet, inquisitive childhood. By the time she reached her teenage years, Nicolette was tired of her parents harsh rules and standards. To get out of the house, she turned to activity. She had always been in shape, but she spent more time sitting primly in a lecture hall than outside riding bikes. So Nicolette enrolled herself in ballet and gymnastics programs, surprisingly to her parents approval. Secretly, she was also going to a martial arts class as well. At this point in time, it was only a way to get out of the house.

Once Nicolette graduated high school, she had dreams of taking a year off to travel, dreams that would not come true. Instead her parents registered her for college. She chose to major in history, moved out, and never looked back.

College was a rush for Nicolette. She met her best friend, Marina Santona, who was also a long-time ballet dancer. The two clicked instantly, plotting their future together and possibly a business together. Senior year came fast and the two girls decided to act on a whim. They bought a large space in downtown Gotham, Nicolette persuading her parents to invest in her business, and they started working at opening their own ballet studio. Soon their business was thriving and many students were showing up for their classes. Nicolette remained a part-time student, working for a teaching degree. As the years passed, Nicolette and Marina's business annually did well and Nicolette added a teaching degree to her wall. She started teaching part-time at a community college and that's when the Joker struck.

The ballet studio struggled some during all the terror, but it managed to stay alive. Once the attacks were over, business picked up again as usual. Now at the prime age of twenty-five, Nicolette lives her life with purpose, still studying martial arts, ballet, and gymnastics. Gotham doesn't seem a mighty stranger anymore with the Joker gone and the Batman still protecting the people.

Batman, that raised a new question. How long would he continue to serve Gotham? The people counted on him to be there, no matter how much bad publicity the Joker threw on him.

But now, reports of a new type of criminal are being fed through the television. A criminal even more misunderstood than the Joker. Will the people of Gotham be able to survive another ring of fire? Will the Batman be able to survive it alone?

* * *

Please I would LOVE LOVE LOVE reviews. I've started work on Chapter One. I promise it will be longer than this. I just wanted to post a short beginning to diffuse an possible confusion. :)

I'm about 4 pages in on Chapter One. I hope to get it to around 6-7, but I don't know where it'll take me! :)  
I want at least 3 reviews for the next chapter to go up. TOUGH LOVE KIDDIES.

-K


	2. Chapter One

A/N: This is merely a work of fiction. I, do not in anyway, own the marvelous Batman (or Bruce L ) All rights and ownership belong to DC comics. I DO own my plotline and Nicolette. Enjoy!

Thanks to the review(s) that I have received from:** brittanymichele, sobz, & ChristianBale Girl 2010** ! And also the favorites and alerts! They mean a lot!

* * *

NICOLETTE ANDERSON

She awoke at the normal time, 6:30 a.m. Rolling out of bed, Nicolette grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table and wandered out into the living room of her condo. The sun was climbing past the large towers of Gotham as she made her way for the coffee pot. Nicolette set up the fragrant coffee grounds and left it to brew. Meanwhile, she opened up the pantry and decided on a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast. Humming to herself, Nicolette poured the bowl and fished the milk out of the fridge, noting that the gallon was getting low. By the time she had finished preparing breakfast, the coffee was done. She filled up a cup, stirred in a spoonful of sugar, and sat down at the small, white table.

Nicolette ate mostly in silence, watching the sun rise behind a light layer of clouds. The clock was ticking by and she knew that she had a short time to get ready, otherwise she could risk being late for work and the first class of the day. She quickly finished my cereal and then grabbed her cup and hurried back into the bedroom. The closet doors were already open and Nicolette started rifling through the hangers. "Comfortable, comfortable…" She muttered, selecting a few garments. She stood back, holding the hangers in front of her and finally decided on a pair of yoga pants and a peach-colored sweatshirt. It's not like she was going to a beauty pageant. Nicolette slugged the rest of her coffee, leaving the cup in on her nightstand, and then entered the gleaming bathroom. Her light blonde hair was already up in a bun, wrapped tightly around itself. She turned on the faucet and scrubbed her face clean, washing away all the morning grogginess. Patting her face dry with a plush towel, Nicolette looked around the room for her leotard, spotting it near the hamper. She shrugged my pajamas off and then slipped on the light, silky fabric. It felt like home.

Glancing at her watch, she finally realized how late she was running this morning.

"7:15, shit." She cursed, tugging on her outer layer of clothing. She took one more glance in the mirror, which was currently reflecting almost translucent blue eyes looking quite harried. She sighed, took a deep breath, and then scrambled for the door.

She had to run to catch the train_. I suppose it's a good thing I'm a fast runner. _Nicolette made it to the platform just as the 7:30 morning train pulled in and stopped with a whine. She boarded, huffing slightly from the her mad dash. As she entered the train car, she knew that it would already be full of businessmen from the previous stops. Standing near a window, she had one hand clutching the rail overhead and one hand resting lightly on the back of a seat. The train started moving again and Nicolette watched as the buildings grew denser as they rocketed towards the heart of Gotham. Eventually the train started slowing and at the next stop almost the entire car emptied, the executives muttering into their cell phones the entire time. She snagged a seat next to a window and observed the other people left on board.

An older woman with a young boy sat near the end of the car, looking quietly out the window. The woman's face looked crease with worry and anxiety. _Hell, after everything that's happened these past few months.. I don't blame her. _She mused to herself. _I probably have a few worry lines too. _The only other passenger was a younger girl, probably on her way to a class at the university. A moment passed and Nicolette found herself reminiscing through her college days; She didn't have a big exciting story like most people. She had gone, gotten her degree and post-degree, and moved on with life. College was just another, longer high school.

A few minutes passed and the squeal of the brakes broke Nicolette out of her daydreaming. Her stop had arrived and she quickly exited. Downtown Gotham is where she was now. Nicolette climbed down the steps to street level, where the bustling city life began. Crowds of people surged past and she joined the throng. The studio was only a block away, which meant less time pushing through the hoards of people.

Soon enough, Nicolette was in front of her pride and joy. Every morning the studio made her proud. Large glass windows spanned the whole front and the shiny chrome signed was dignified and formal. Smiling, she retrieved the keys from her satchel and unlocked her 'home away from home.' Polished wood floors greeted her and her gym shoes barely scuffed the shine. Nicolette flicked on the light switches as she passed, watching as the beams of light reflected off the mirrors and lit up the entire space. She entered the office area and set her purse on the organized desk that she called hers. The answering machine was empty which meant she was free to have a little warm-up instead of making phone calls.

Nicolette traded the small office room for a slightly larger room in the back of the building. One wall of the room was floor to ceiling mirrors and the others were painted a pastel yellow. She crossed the room, then opened another door into the locker room. Nicolette unlaced her shoes, threw them in the empty locker, then slipped out of her street clothes. Left in only a black leotard, Nicolette unlocked her personal locker and took out a pair of simple, nude-colored ballet shoes. She slipped them on her feet, making sure they were nice and tight. Then, she exited back into the yellow room to dance.

* * *

BRUCE WAYNE

It was nearing 8 o'clock when Alfred pushed open the door to Bruce' room. The curtains were pulled tight, as usual, and his Master's head was buried underneath his pillows and sheets. Alfred, carrying a tray with a foul-smelling nutrition drink and a plate of eggs and bacon, made his way around the large bed and placed the food on the bedside table.

"Master Wayne," He said brightly, crossing the room to pull open the blinds. Immediately he heard Bruce groan. "May I remind you that you're needed at a meeting this morning? 9 o'clock to be precise." Alfred gazed out at the streets of Gotham below. This week him and Bruce were staying in the downtown penthouse, though the Manor had been fully restored almost a month ago.. Personally he preferred the Manor, but he felt that it brought too many bad memories to Master Wayne.

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce grumbled. He lifted his torso out of the sheets and propped himself up against the headboard. Dark circles were underneath his eyes. The night before, Batman had a long night, and Bruce didn't make it home until 2 a.m.

"The criminals are even more ruthless now Alfred." He commented, slowly picking at his breakfast. A few bruises were scattered across his chest and upper arms, but he barely even noticed them now.

"How so Master Wayne?" Alfred said, slightly intrigued.

"Ever since the Joker's attacks…" Bruce paused and a flash of sadness and anger passed over his face. "They don't see the Batman as a big threat anymore. The big rings are still getting in drugs and weapons."

"Sir, if you don't mind me saying, but aren't these all the same problems you've been dealing with?"

"There's something different about this Alfred. I can feel it. There's something we don't know." And with that, he fell out of bed and started his regimen of exercise.

Thirty minutes, two hundred push-ups, and one hot shower later, Bruce emerged from his room, black dress pants brandishing his body. A white towel hung around his neck as he wandered into the living room, flicking on the television to watch the news. The broadcaster was speaking quickly, reporting a shooting downtown. Bruce's body was tense; the shooters were probably related to the gangs. And the gangs needed to be stopped. His mind switched over to the Batman's mind for a moment.

"Alfred!" He called, striding into the kitchen where the trusty butler was currently inhabiting.

"Yes Master Wayne?" Alfred responded.

"I need you to go to the Manor today. I need you to dig up some information for me. Search anything relating to 'The Phoenix." He frowned. "They're really getting creative with these names you know Alfred."

"I can tell as much sir. But you know, I hear birds are quite popular lately." Alfred smirked and turned to go get the car warmed up, earning a grimace from Bruce.

Soon enough Bruce was being dropped off by Alfred in front of Wayne Enterprises. It all made him feel like a child. Bruce walked up the steps with a swagger, a slightly over-confident grin on his face. He ran a hand through his usual slicked-back hair and passed the doormen in silence. He winked at the secretary as he passed, though behind the smile, nothing was there. Once in the safety of the elevator, the grin faded from his face and he sighed. _Sooner or later I'm going to have to find a way to end this façade. _The elevator dinged as it reached his floor and Bruce slid the grin back into place.

"Lucius, I'm so glad you could make it." He said brightly, stepping out of the elevator and shaking the hand of his former CEO, Lucius Fox. The man was dressed sharply, a grey and black suit adorning his aging person.

"Well Mr. Wayne. You are quite the persuader." Bruce smiled, a little more genuine, and led the way to their conference room.

* * *

NICOLETTE ANDERSON

Nicolette didn't notice Marina come in. She was too busy caught up in her stretches and her slow, timed plies. She was just limbered up when Marina broke her focus.

"I think you know the basics by now Olette. I mean it's been what… thirteen years?" Marina's slight Spanish accent gave her words a flair.

"You can always improve." Nicolette said, rolling her eyes. She straightened out of her pose and then started her cool-down stretches. Marina walked across the room, clad in slacks and a blazer. "Why the fancy get-up Mar?" She asked.

"I'm promoting you today, you forgot?" Marina said with a glint in her eye.

"It seems I have." Nicolette lowered herself to the ground and crossed her legs Indian-style. Marina had always been the more business-savvy of the two; she had always handled more of the behind-the-scenes work, trading in her leotard for suits. And ever since they met, she had been trying to get Nicolette noticed by several ballet troupes throughout Gotham. "Mar, I'm twenty-six. I'm out! They're not going to want me." She shook her head, knowing the cutthroat business. You needed to be young.

"They haven't seen you dance, Olette." Marina shook her head and then left the room, her heels clacking. Nicolette sighed and got up from her position on the floor. The wall clock announced it was nearing 9 o'clock. The first class started promptly at 9 and she thought she heard the children scrambling about in the main foyer. She walked over to the door and opened it, watching as the kid's heads turned in her direction.

"Go get changed!" She called, smiling. "Today we start practicing for the recital!" The children whooped with glee and rushed past her, towards the locker rooms.

Two hours later, Nicolette was waving the students good-bye. It always pleased her to see them leaving the studio, excitedly telling their parents about whatever they had learned, or practiced. Today's children's class had gone exceptionally well. It was her next class that took a little more patience. Nicolette walked back into the office once she watched the last child leave. She had an hour until the next class started.

"Hey, you want to go out for an early lunch?" Marina proposed, looking up from her computer screen.

"That actually sounds pretty good." Nicolette was feeling ravenous from her workout and from instructing the class. "I'll just be a minute. I have to go change." Marina smiled and Nicolette dashed for the locker rooms.

Nicolette and Marina soon found themselves sliding into a booth at a small café a block away from the studio. It was a quaint place, booths lining the walls and a few tables scattered around the floor. The waiters were genial and the prices were reasonable.

"I'm just going to get the usual." Nicolette said, not even bothering to look at her menu. The 'usual' being a bowl of soup and a fresh salad.

"Yeah yeah." Marina rolled her eyes and placed her menu on top of Nicolette's. The waiter came by and they ordered, falling into easy conversation.

"I have a feeling the class is going to be brutal this afternoon." Nicolette griped, resting her chin on her palm.

"Well I guess it's a good thing I won't be there." Marina took a casual sip of her soda.

"What?" Nicolette muttered, a hint of annoyance seeping into her voice. "Marina, you're always there to help me out with the older kids."

"Look Olette, I'm sorry, but that's when the meeting was scheduled with the troupe. There's nothing I can do about it." Nicolette sighed and looked away. "Olette! You can handle them. It's just a bunch of sixteen year old girls." "Yeah really moody and stuck-up sixteen year old girls." Nicolette suddenly felt like a sixteen year old girl herself, but she straightened up and took a deep breath.

"You've handled much worse." Marina laughed and then their food was served.

They ate their food quickly, not having noticed the time they spent idly chit-chatting. When it came time for them to go their separate ways, Nicolette left, giving Marina the stink eye.

"Oh suck it up!" Mar called as Nicolette weaved her way down the block. She laughed and soon found herself in front of the studio again. Once she unlocked the door, Nicolette quickly changed back into uniform again and then waited out the next class. They girls started arriving in groups, all of them talking in hushed whispers and giggles. Nicolette stood at the front of the room, rolling her eyes ever so often. Finally, when the door had stopped opening every few seconds she started calling names in attendance. She got halfway through the list when things started to go awry.

"Caddie Everman?" She had already called Caddie's name twice. No reply.

"Krysten Hallowell?" Absent as well.

"Lucy?" Another missing. It was strange. Especially since all three of these girls were always joined at the hip and had never missed a class before. She put a check by their names and then noticed the whispering going around the room. She peered up through her eyelashes, seeing the girls looking at each other nervously. It was unsettling, but she had to ignore it for now.

"Ok class, let's begin with our stretches…" She began her second class, the feeling of unease growing in her stomach.

Once the class had ended, much to Nicolette's pleasure, she started thinking. _Why had the girls seemed so nervous when Caddie, Krysten, and Lucy hadn't shown up for class? Maybe they got into some trouble… _Nicolette sat in her desk chair pondering this when Marina bust in the room.

"Olette! Olette! You're in! They've accepted you!" She broke off into an unintelligible garble.

"Mar? Wait- what!" Nicolette stood up from her desk, her eyes wide with incredulity.

"I just got out of the meeting. It was amazing Olette! They genuinely want you to be in the troupe! They already gave me the list of rehearsals and all the information you're going to need. Olette! You've just been accepted into the most prestigious Ballet Company in Gotham. Hell! The whole state!" Nicolette's face was one of shock and pure bliss. _I guess it's not too late for me after all! _She grabbed Marina and hugged her, a tear escaping her eye.

* * *

BRUCE WAYNE

The meeting with Lucius had gone well, extremely well actually, and Bruce left Wayne Enterprises content. This entire meeting depended on a bit of persuasive skill, and Bruce definitely had that. Lucius had agreed to sign on again as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but under quite a few compromises. If Bruce or, the Batman made a decision he didn't like, Bruce would suffer the consequences.

Bruce hailed a taxi, which stopped immediately when the driver recognized who he was. Climbing in, Bruce told him the address of the penthouse and off they went. It only took a few minutes to get there, since the penthouse was just downtown. Bruce paid the driver and exited, heading for the parking garage. He needed to go to the Palisades, to the Manor. Bruce opened the door to a silver Volvo, not wanting to be too ostentatious today. Though it seemed that's what everyone loved. The car hummed as he put the key in and soon he pealed out, weaving through the Gotham traffic.

As Bruce made his way out of the dense Gotham buildings, his mind started turning. All the details he had absorbed over the past few nights were trying to piece their way together. _The Phoenix… _he mused. _They were the rising gang in Gotham, but they weren't overly showy. A few members would prowl the Narrows, even on shipment nights. They kept quiet and that's what made stopping them challenging. The Batman could spend every night taking out the few members wandering the Narrows, but to defeat a hydra, you need to go to the main head. He just didn't know who-or where that head was. From the little information he had gotten so far, The Phoenix started recruiting early. Younger kids, from the ages of sixteen to nineteen. The younger the kid on the street was, the less intimidating. It was mostly drugs and weapons they were importing, from various black market dealers across the country. No murders had occurred so far, but that didn't mean they wouldn't strike. The cache of weapons must be incredible. The only other piece of information that struck him as odd was the large amount of gunpowder that was usually in the shipments. Lots of gunpowder…. But not as many guns._

Bruce now found himself driving through the Palisades, and a more melancholy mood settled around him. He hadn't exactly been thrilled to have to come back here. Not after… everything. The memories of not only his past, but now the most recent occurrences were hard to deal with and the only way he knew was to work. He finally pulled into the driveway, the Manor watching him quietly. It looked perfect, exactly how it had always looked. A part of Bruce wanted to burn it to the ground again, to see if some of the pain would ease. But he wouldn't. Him and Alfred would only rebuild it eventually.

As soon as he parked the car, Bruce was out, up the large steps, and into the Manor. He tried to not dawdle, taking fast steps toward the study, and the lift down to the cave. That was familiar territory. The redone Manor was not, and Bruce wasn't ready to brave it just yet. He hit the correct keys on the piano and was quickly in the lift. He took a few calming breaths and then his mind flipped over to the Batman.

"Alfred, have you found anything?" He walked towards the large computer, which his guardian was currently sitting at.

"I have Master Wayne. Not much, but it may suffice for now." Alfred stepped aside and Bruce took his place, eyes scanning the screen. It wasn't much as Alfred as said, but there were a few e-mails from what seemed to be the higher ups. Most of it was in code and no names were used. But it gave Bruce some needed information about their shipment schedules. He needed to get in contact with Gordon. He moved from the computer to the table and picked up the encrypted cell phone that he still used to communicate with the Commissioner.

"Sir, do you believe that to be the best idea?" Alfred spoke quietly.

"He needs to know Alfred." Bruce rasped. He knew it was dangerous for Gordon to still affiliate with the Batman, but Gordon would take any information. Bruce dialed the number and waited.

"Commissioner Gordon." The line picked up quickly, but Gordon spoke quietly.

"The Phoenix are getting in two large shipments three days from now. Tuesday, twelve forty-five pm. They're use two black SUV's for the main drop-off. After that it's transferred into several unmarked cars." Bruce relayed the information he had discovered and then hung-up.

"Master Wayne." Alfred said, coming up behind Bruce.

"Alfred?"

"It's time to do a walk-through." Bruce stiffened and groaned, but Alfred just laughed and pushed him towards the lift.

* * *

NICOLETTE ANDERSON

After work ended, Nicolette headed home. Marina's suggested they go out for drinks, but after reviewing the practice schedules for her new Company, she realized that she had a rehearsal tomorrow, and she needed to be on the top of her game. Nicolette boarded the Gotham Line as she did that morning and was soon rocketing off towards the 'burbs. She departed the train at three, and was strolling along the block, watching the grey-ish clouds move across the sky. Her hopes had suddenly been lifted and she pulled her cell phone out of her purse.

"Hi Mom." She said once her mother answered their phone.

"Nicci dear!" her mother cooed, making Nicolette shudder. She hated the name Nicci.

"So I was just calling to tell you that I was accepted into the Gotham Ballet Company today." She crossed her fingers, hoping for a good reaction.

"Oh dear… that's wonderful. But don't you think you're a little too old for serious dance anymore?" Nicolette grimaced and her face fell.

"Well Mom, I guess I'll just see how this goes. I have to go, I'll talk to you later." She hung up with her mother and sighed. This is how she'd always been. Her mother called it 'a little tough love.' "Now if I'd said I had been invited to join the Professors at the U for dinner it would've been an explosion." Nicolette entered the lobby of her building and pressed the call button for the elevator. It arrived shortly and she pressed the button for the third floor. Soon enough, she was in her condo, slipping her shoes off and changing into lounge clothes. Nicolette looked at herself in the bathroom, touching the few wrinkles that she had on her face. _Am I too old for this? _She asked herself. _Can my body handle it? _She sighed and made way for the living room, ready to unwind and relax.

* * *

BRUCE WAYNE

Bruce sat in the Cave, alone. He had subjected to Alfred's pestering and walked through the Manor, feeling old memories surface again. He wanted it to be nighttime so he could leave all this behind. For now though, he was rereading the messages Alfred had found. He committed a few code names to memory. Beast, Runner, and then one name that had just been stated as Man. He hoped he could drag out a few identities tonight. The Batman needed to make some sort of progress at least.

Night fall came and soon, the Batman was sitting on a rooftop in the Narrows, waiting. Few people had wandered past so far, and none of them were a Phoenix. He had a good feeling though, so he decided to wait this out. The streets were mostly quiet, a few cats were shrieking nearby. Batman flicked on all his sensors, especially the one for extended hearing. Just as he was about to give up, a hooded figure strolled down the street, one hand shoved in their pocket and the other at their side. Immediately he shifted his vantage point from the roof to the fire escape. The figure stopped and pulled a walkie-talkie to their mouth.

"Clear so far… what am I looking for anyway?" Batman's eyes widened slightly as he heard the voice of the person. It was girl, and a young girl at that.

"The Bat of course. Just stay sharp. And if you do run into him… .you know the rules." The responding voice was gruff and Batman could tell whether it was male or female. He did know that this girl was a rookie and most likely scared stiff. That fear would let him get the information he needed easily. _She might not know anything_, he thought. _But it's worth a shot. _Batman jumped down from the fire escape, landing without a sound in the alley below. The girl had started walking again and he silently trailed her. _I need to get her out of the main street_, he thought, watching her walk further away. He trailed her, moving through the maze of alleys and catching glimpse of her here and there. Finally, an opportunity arose. The girl ducked into an alley after seeing a group of guys coming down the opposite side of the street. There, the Batman was waiting.

"Tell me what you know about the Phoenix." His voice was gruff and intimidating. The girl turned quickly, her eyes widening as she took in the mass of shadows before her.

"I , I don't know what you're talking about." She stuttered out. _Strike one_.

"Tell me names. Any names you know." Batman took a step toward her.

"I don't know any names!" She cried. The hand lifted from her pocket and with it- the glint of metal.

"You won't. You can't. You're a rookie. A scared girl walking in the Narrows." He disappeared into the shadows and popped up behind her. "What's your name?" He rasped.

"C-Caddie." Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Why are you in The Phoenix?" He interrogated.

"I didn't have a choice. They recruited me and I didn't have a choice. Said they would make me clean again." She fell to the ground, her head in her hands.

"I need names. Tell me names of anyone you know in The Phoenix."

"I told you! I don't know any names! They only used nicknames, codes." She sobbed. "The man that recruited me, his name was Runner. He was tall and had this voice that just sent shivers down my spine. I never saw his face. I never saw anyone's face. They just gave me instructions and a walkie-talkie." Caddie pulled out the device and laid it on the ground. Batman moved forward and picked up the walkie-talkie, examining it for anything he could use to track someone.

"What were your instructions?" He said, moving back into the shadows.

"To kill you." She looked up and took another device out of her pocket. On it, were two buttons. She clicked both of them. Batman disappeared, trying to forget the sickening smirk on her face. He made it up to the rooftop, and looked back down at the walkie-talkie. The screen was bright red and numbers were counting down. 10 seconds, 9 seconds, 8 seconds… Batman groaned, crushed the device under his boot, and then observed the broken pieces. A black powder was coating the inside of all the pieces and he sniffed it. Gunpowder. Batman collected the pieces and took off, needing to examine this in the light of the cave.

"Back so soon Master Wayne?" Alfred was up and waiting. It was only midnight, which was extremely early for Bruce.

"There's teenage girls with bombs out there Alfred. Things just became more serious." Bruce started taking the uniform off and put the broken pieces of the walkie-talkie on a table for further examination.

"I'm guessing that you came in pretty close contact tonight?" Bruce just looked at Alfred and then sat down at the table. He picked apart the pieces and found nearly every one of them coated in gunpowder.

"How was gunpowder supposed to light?" Bruce, confused, scratched his head and placed a piece back in the pile.

"Perhaps it was custom built sir. God knows you acquire some technology that doesn't follow logic." At this Bruce nodded. So The Crows either had a tech specialist or were in touch with one.

"Either there is brainwashing going on in The Phoenix, or people hate the Batman more than I thought." Bruce muttered.

"I'd go with the brainwashing Master Wayne." Bruce nodded and stood up.

"What plans did I have for tomorrow Alfred?"

"Well you did have that charity dinner for the businesses of Gotham. Lots of mingling. The invitation said a representative from every business would be there. How it'll turn out… I'm not quite sure." Alfred smiled and accompanied Bruce onto the lift. "Looks like we're sleeping here tonight Alfred." Bruce said, his eyes already drifting shut.

"As long as you do sleep, Sir. Wayne Enterprises can't have you looking like you've been up all night at the dinner tomorrow." Bruce rolled his eyes as they exited the cave and entered Wayne Manor.

* * *

So, chapter one is completed. I know it was a pretty slow chapter and I apologize! This was a set-up for more chapters to come! And in the next chapter Nicolette is going to meet a super sexy Bruce! c:  
Again thanks so much for all the reviews! I hope to get the next chapter up in at least a week. But I want at least 3 more reviews.

-k

( 2/22/11 update: I made a few changes to this chapter. Please excuse me. c: My friend and I had a brainstorm session and it cleared my mind and set a straight course for this story. THIS IS GOOD!)


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: This is merely a work of fiction. I, do not in anyway, own the marvelous Batman (or Bruce :c ) All rights and ownership belong to DC comics. I DO own my plotline and Nicolette. Enjoy !~

Thanks for all the reviews from** Elientjeuh , BrittanyMichele, AMSR!** Also all the favorites and alerts! I love you guys!~

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Nicolette's alarm went off at exactly 5:45 a.m. She groaned and hit the snooze button, not wanting to get up just then. That's when the reality of her situation hit her. Today was her first day of being in the Gotham Ballet Company. And she needed to be on time and ready for anything. She was prepared for the worst. Nicolette jumped out of bed and automatically hit up the shower. She scrubbed her skin furiously and lathered up her corn silk-colored hair. Once she had rinsed, she got out, she slipped on her robe and wrapped a towel around her hair. Nicolette poured herself a bowl of cereal and then started brewing herself a cup of coffee. That's when she noticed the red light blinking on her answering machine.

"Please don't tell me they've decided not to hire me." She whispered, approaching the machine. She clicked the play button and held her breath and Marina's voice started talking at her.

"Take a breath Nicolette. I know what's going through your mind right now." Was the first thing Marina had said. Nicolette breathed and kept listening. "Listen, I hate to do this to you, but my sister called and she's having a lot of problems at home. I really need to get out their tonight, but there's a Gotham Business Association Dinner tonight and I was supposed to go. Could you go instead of me? Just this one time Olette I promise! It's at 5 p.m. sharp and formal attire is required. It's being held-" Marina's voiced kept droning on and Nicolette sighed.

These kind of events were the exact reason her and Marina got along. Marina was the one who was supposed to take care of these things. But, Nicolette understood her situation so she'd help her out his time. Nicolette quickly texted Marina's phone, telling her that she would be able to attend the dinner. Then, realizing she was losing precious time, she grabbed her bowl of cereal and coffee and retreated to the bathroom.

Nicolette was really good at multitasking. She managed to dry her hair pin-straight while drinking her coffee and then get dressed in between each bite of cereal. Once her food and drink was finished, she sat in front of her vanity and slowly wrapped her hair up in a tight bun. Since she had no layers, her hair looked slick and shiny. She dusted on some powder and smiled at herself, trying to boost up her confidence. Nicolette stood and looked at herself in her light pink leotard. She was slender, tall, and didn't look precisely her age of twenty-five. She could have passed for twenty-one, but today she would feel many years older. Nicolette gave herself one last smile and put on another pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, which was what her closet mostly consisted of.

She walked back out into the kitchen and reviewed her schedule one more time. Practice started at precisely 7 a.m. and it was 6:15 right now. She would have plenty of time to get there if she left right now.

"Shit." She muttered reviewing the end times. Her practice would end at noon, and that's if everything went well. Then after that she still had the afternoon class to teach and that ended at three. _I'm going to look horrible for this dinner tonight_, she thought. She would be entirely rushed. Nicolette shrugged, _whatever happens, happens, _and left her apartment.

Nicolette arrived at the Gotham Ballet Company studio ten minuets early. And if she was any earlier she would've taken time to stop and gawk at the beauty of the building itself. It was large and stately, made of bright red brick. Once inside though, she was greeted by the smell of old wood floors, which to her smelled wonderful. Many of the ballerinas were already here, stretching or chatting idly. She sighed and she put her bag down next to the bar. _They're all nineteen to twenty-one. I'm going to stick out like a sore thumb. _

The digital clock on the wall finally announced 7 and then the girls all headed towards the locker room. Nicolette had no choice to follow, so she did. Once inside, she let out a sigh of relief. The coach, Mrs. Barbara Matthews, a ripe age of fifty-three, was standing in the center of the room. She clapped her bony hands together, the rings on her fingers making metallic jingles. At once everyone got silent.

"Well, another day ladies. But this day is much more exciting! I've decided to add another dancer to our Company here." Everyone started looking around and whispering an Nicolette felt her face get red. "Nicolette Anderson? Are you here?" Nicolette took a deep breath and plastered a smile on her face. She walked forward, saying 'excuse me's' as she passed people.

"Hello, nice to meet you Mrs. Matthews." She shook the hand of the stately woman in front of her.

"Oh call me Barb." She laughed, which automatically made Nicolette feel better. "Now ladies you better get used to having an actual woman around here besides me." Nicolette felt her face flush. The girls looked at each other and were already rolling their eyes.

"Now! Get changed and meet me out there in five! We have a lot of work to do!" Barb clapped her hands again and then turned to Nicolette. "I'm so happy to have you with us. I saw your tape and it was superb. I'll show you your locker and then we'll start the day!" Nicolette smiled and followed Barb through the locker room. She was shown her locker and then she quickly shed her outer layers. Her nerves had somewhat cooled and she was ready for whatever was coming towards her. Out in the dance room, the girls were already whispering. Nicolette heard a few "She's _twenty-six_?" floating around but she just ignored them. Barb soon made her entrance and then they started. The basics were the easy part. They stretched, practiced their jetés and grand jetés, worked on the perfect forms of plies and demi-plies, and finally started Pointe. The girls all lined up and then it was silent, as everyone was concentrating.

Nicolette finished up her first day, completely exhausted. Once they had finished Pointe, Barb announced that they were going to start Choreography for their next show. The lead parts would be rehearsed and the parts would be chosen after try-outs. It was the only fair way that worked, it what Barb had said. Once she was changed back into normal clothes, Nicolette checked the time and groaned. It was going on one o'clock. She needed to get the studio and fast. She rushed out the studio, a few girls looking oddly at her as she dashed by.

Nicolette was lucky enough to catch a bus heading the same direction as her studio. She settled into a seat near the front and kept her eyes on her cell phone, watching as the minutes ticked by. The bus stopped just down the street from her studio so she got out and just booked it. Luckily she was skilled at weaving in between people so she made it to the doors just in time, as a couple students had just arrived.

"Go get changed!" She instructed them as she entered and flicked on all the lights. Her patience was already worn and now she had to teach another older class. She went into her office and placed her bags down and fell into her chair.

"Oh this is going to be real fun." She muttered, brushing a strand of hair back from her face. Her heart was pounding. "Ok calm down. Once this class is over…." she cursed under her breath. _That damned charity dinner. _Nicolette had completely forgotten. She took another deep breath and exited the office, her nerves close to snapping.

The class was quiet when she entered the room. Nicolette immediately began taking attendance and paused when the three from yesterday still weren't here.

"Has anyone seen Caddie, Krysten, or Lucy?" She called. Everyone started looking around the room, a look of worry in their eyes. When no one answered, Nicolette excused herself from the room and into the office. She sat down at the desk and called each of their homes. No one answered, but each of the answering machine's messages were urging the caller to leave a message. Slightly shaken, Nicolette left the office and resumed class. She _would_ get to the bottom of this.

It was 3:45 when Nicolette rushed into her apartment. Immediately she sprinted for the bathroom, stripping of her clothes in record time. The water was still slightly cold when she hopped it, but she had no time for wasting. Nicolette quickly, yet thoroughly, bathed and then enclosed herself in her robe once more.

Nicolette threw on a simple black gown that hit her in all the right places. She spent most of her time in the bathroom applying a light smidge of eyeliner and mascara. Her skin was left naturally porcelain-colored, but she made it pop with some red lipstick. Now her hair. Nicolette sighed as her locks fell out of the towel, still pin-straight. She glanced at the clock, trying to calculate if she had enough time to dry _and_ curl her hair. The time was nearing 4:15 so she definitely didn't want to risk it. Nicolette started the hair dryer and waved it fanatically around her head. She got in dry in about ten minutes and then grabbed her purse, slipped on a pair of heels, and bolted out the door.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Bruce was stilled tire when Alfred woke him up around two. The night before had been especially troubling and it plagued his dreams. As he began his regimen of pushups, the encounter ran through his mind.

_"What were your instructions?" He said, moving back into the shadows._

"_To kill you." _

Her voice had been serious, yet there was a chilling, mocking edge to it. The young as she was bothered him as well. Bruce finished his exercise and left his room, easily maneuvering the maze-like manor. He found Alfred in the kitchen, sorting through the fridge.

"Well good afternoon Master Wayne." Alfred placed a plate with a sandwich in front of Bruce.

"Alfred." Bruce nodded curtly, his mind still on the Batman's nightly occurrences. Bruce took a few bites, but only finished half the sandwich, much to Alfred's dislike.

"Sir, you need to finish. Energy does come from food you know." Alfred muttered, moving to clean up the kitchen.

"I'll eat at that wretched event tonight." Bruce muttered, unfolding the newspaper. He quickly scanned the page, skipping all the celebrity and gossip columns. His eyes rested on an article about recent disappearances.

_Three families have recently come forward, reporting that their daughters have been missing. The last contact they had was last Wednesday when the three girls were out together and called home to check in. Family members ask that if you have an knowledge of the girls whereabouts, that you please contact them right away. The girls names are Caddie Everman, Krysten Hallowell, and Lucille (Lucy) de Grigiano. Once again, their parents ask that if you have had contact with these girls that you call them right away._

Pictures were supplied of the three girls and Bruce instantly recognized the one as Caddie from last night. With one had firmly clutching the paper, he stalked off to the cave.

Bruce sat at the large computer un four thirty, researching the girls names and background, anything he could use to link them to The Phoenix. The girls were all athletic, enrolled for eight years in ballet and advanced dance classes. Newspaper articles confirmed his suspicions about their backgrounds. All three were friends from birth and had grown into quite the Gotham socialites. Their parents were business partners, slowly climbing their way to Gotham's top tier. For a second, Bruce wondered why he did recognize their names, but then he remembered that he never really cared about the social scene.

Bruce scanned a few police files dating this year. They seemed promising. After reading them, he deduced that all three of the girls had been caught and fined extensively for illegal drug possession and alcohol use.

"Got it," Bruce said, finally finding the link to The Phoenix. Of course, that link was drugs. Tonight he'd have a lot of work to do. But first, he'd have Alfred sent an anonymous tip to the three families. Anything to try to get those girls off the streets.

Alfred managed to drag Bruce up from the cave around four thirty. Thankfully, Bruce only arrived at the banquet ten minutes late, but no one cared. His reputation covered that. Bruce stepped out from the car, looking dashing in a black suit, not too flashy, and shiny shoes. A few photographers snapped photos of him as he made for the door. Once inside, Bruce had his image to maintain. He glided past tables, making foolish chitchat and winking occasionally at tittering women. He really despised this whole acts.

Eventually Bruce settled at a table as dinner was about to be served. About fifty round tables were scattered around the large hall and people were hopping from table to table. It was interesting to see so many different people all getting along. Though he did notice a few wealthy snobs sitting haughtily at a secluded table. Now the waiters emerged from the kitchen and Bruce's table began to fill with a few investors and their eye-lashing batting wives. They all started talking business amongst themselves and the women began ogling Bruce.

"Excuse me," a voice came from behind Bruce's shoulder. "Do you mind if I take this seat? I forgot to stake a claim before dinner began." The woman laughed nervously and Bruce turned around. A striking woman stood before him, her bluish-tinted opalescent betraying her embarrassment.

"Of course." Bruce smiled and gestured that she was free to sit. The woman neatly tucked her tall frame into the chair and scooted closer to the table. "Bruce Wayne." He said, showing off his rows of pearly white teeth. As she faced him, her eyes lacked the embarrassment and the insane, lust-driven curiosity he was used to.

"Nicolette Anderson." She replied softly. The table turned towards her as she spoke, their eyes dubious and appraising.

"Oh and what company do you own dear?" Mrs. Devrie, a CEO of a charity-funding company. The others chuckled.

"Actually I co-own a ballet studio in Downtown Gotham. We've become quite well-known as of late. The other owner wasn't able to make it tonight." Bruce detected a hit of anger and annoyance in her eyes.

"Oh that's nice. I've always considering learning ballet. It's such a… delicate art." The woman replied, obviously sarcastic.

"More like useless." her husband said under his breath. They all chuckled, as if the degrading comment was just good fun. Nicolette looked like she was going to strike up an argument, but then the food arrived.

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

She was going to _kill_ Marina for this. Nicolette ate in silence, glad the food had arrived to quell her growing temper. The people she was forced to sit with were snide and arrogant. Definitely not her type of people. And then, to top it all off, Bruce Wayne was being constantly hounded by all the women in sight. It was utterly unbearable. Nicolette sighed as she finished her meal and took a hearty drink from her water.

"Would you care for a drink?" An unexpected question came from next to her.

"Ah? Oh no thank you," She declined. God knew she would kill for a little bit of alcohol, but she had to teach her college class _and _go to rehearsal tomorrow. Bruce shrugged, an unheard joke dancing in his eyes.

"Why do I _look _like I need a drink?" She monotoned.

"Actually, you do." He laughed. "I didn't realize how boring this table is. You're barely staying awake." He taunted. His words made Nicolette realize how tired she actually was, physically (which she was used to) and emotionally, from all the stress.

"I just had a long day." She admitted.

"Well, accompany me to get a drink and you can tell me all about it." He teased, batting his eyelashes. Nicolette eyed him incredulously, but then stood. Anything to get away from that table. Nicolette and Bruce started walking across the room, and Nicolette started feeling unwanted, piercing stares. _Oh right, this is the Bruce Wayne I'm walking with. I suppose I look like another one of his conquests… _

"So, your day?" He asked lightly. They had approached the corner of the hall with the open bar. He leaned against the counter as the bartender prepared whatever he had ordered.

"Long." Nicolette ran a hand through her tresses. Bruce made a motion, urging her to continue. "Five hour practice this morning and then a two hour dance class that I had to teach right afterwards. Plus, I just found out that I had to attend this dinner, this morning." She rolled her eyes, still annoyed at Marina's last minute change of plans.

"Practice for what?" He asked, slightly intrigued.

"Ballet. I was just invited to join the Gotham Company yesterday. It's a really big deal, seeing that my prime age has passed."

"Is it a lot of work?" She nodded once his question left his mouth.

"Extremely. It takes a lot of dedication and practicing the fundamentals. Also, in the very beginning, it was quite painful." He nodded thoughtfully as he accepted his drink from the bartender.

"Is is stuffy in here, or is it just me?" He offered her his arm and led the way out into a courtyard.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Bruce led Nicolette outside, where it was quieter and much less crowded. A few people roamed around the courtyard and the small garden paths that twisted around the center. He was honestly intrigued. From the little she had spoken so far, he already knew that she was a very dedicated person. Much like himself. It took a lot for him to keep his light, richy-rich attitude in place.

"So is the dance industry all you do?" He asked, wanting to keep her talking.

"I teach European History at the local college during the week." Nicolette replied. "I have Ballet classes on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sunday. Rehearsals every other day, before or after work. I practice martial arts on Thursday mornings at my Studio. And then regular workouts too of course. " Bruce was surprised at her answers.

"You sound like a busy woman." He chuckled, leading her through a cobblestone path lined with sweet-smelling trees.

"I am. But I don't really mind it. I guess I've just gotten used to it. There's nothing else I'd really rather be doing." She noticed that he kept the conversation to light topics.

"I used to be a polo player. It was tough work." He added. Internally, Bruce grimaced. He hated lying, but how else was he supposed to relate to her? Without giving away his secret at least.

"That's what I've heard. Training is everything for those sports. Though I guess it's applies the same to ballet." She laughed and Bruce smiled. "But really, enough about me. How is Wayne Enterprises?" She asked, turning to the one thing she really knew about this man.

"Currently undergoing some… internal changes. For the better of course." He smiled when he remembered that Mr. Fox had come back to run the company.

"What exactly is it that Wayne Enterprises does?" Nicolette had to admit that she honestly had no clue.

"We specialize in more of the technology side of things as of late. Unfortunately I can't disclose our secrets." Bruce laughed.

"Damn. There goes my plan for unraveling the mystery of Wayne Enterprises." Nicolette and Bruce emerged from the tangle of paths, back into the courtyard. Nicolette looked at the delicate silver watch on her wrist and sighed. Bruce glanced over at her.

"Something wrong?"

"It's almost eight. And I am, quite honestly, really tired. I should be going."

"Well then, have a good night and try to keep up with your crazy schedule." She laughed and Bruce placed a kiss on her cheek. "Maybe you can work in some time to go out to dinner?"

"I- I'll have to see. You know, rearrange things." She blushed and then departed, exiting the courtyard with one last glance at Bruce.

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Nicolette had made it home, unaware of the atrocity that happened across Gotham. She had only taken another shower, gotten comfy in a pair of old pajamas and opened up her laptop to double check her lesson plan for tomorrow. Outside the moon was full and she thought back to a few hours before.

"Bruce Wayne…" She laughed at herself. She'd humor him and go out to dinner. When she had time. She permitted herself a small smile. Nicolette Anderson, the only person the would have to make Bruce Wayne schedule dinner around _her _life. She had to give it to the guy though, he kept her talking and kept her interested. Just as she was about to head off to bed, her cell phone rang.

"Hello?" She said, answering it.

"So how'd it go?" Marina questioned. Nicolette sighed.

"Horribly. The people were rude and I ended up becoming Bruce Wayne's new 'exploit.'"

"Woah. What!" Marina muttered something in Spanish that Nicolette couldn't quite translate. "If I knew Bruce Wayne himself was going to be attended I would've made _sure_ I had been there. He is just… fine." Nicolette laughed.

"I had to sit next to him at dinner. And then we strolled through this flower-filled courtyard under the stars." Nicolette said this with a wistful, dreamy air to her voice.

"Did his kiss you? Ask you out?" Marina sounded doubly shocked.

"On the cheek. And yes, but it's around my hectic schedule of course. No date has been officially set."

"Oh dear. This is serious. You _do _realize that you are going to get hounded by every reporter in Gotham?" Marina sounded extremely serious.

"Sure Mar. Now I have a class tomorrow. I need sleep. Good night." Nicolette hung up and went to bed, her thoughts circling around Marina's words.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Not half an hour after Bruce had left the banquet, Batman was patrolling the streets. He ended up in the Narrows, searching for more Phoenix members. Tonight though, no one was out. It set a shiver down his spine to hear silence throughout the Narrows. He hopped a few rooftops, listening for the tiniest sound. Batman picked up on a few cats and even fewer cars. Idly, he wondered what happened to make everyone so silent.

_Perhaps the Phoenix are up to something tonight. They might be a bigger terror to the people here than I thought._

Batman stood near the edge of a rooftop, looking into the alley below. He sensed something was off. As he scanned the street and the alley below, he thought he saw a waft of smoke drifting out a small, cracked window. He tried to peer inside, but the window was dingy and covered in grime. He was about to disregard it when a singed and slightly aflame object was propelled out the window, slowly dropping towards the alley below. The odd occurrence made him pause a second, but soon he was floating down to the alleyway, his cape whispering through the air.

Batman landed with a muffled thud. He smelled smoke and went to investigate the charred remains of the object. He picked it up gently, not wanting to damage the article. A quick survey told him that it was a shirt and the word Everman in black lettering. The bottom was completely charred and most of it was reduced to ashes. He knew it was a key piece of evidence. Now it was time to find out more.

Again surveying the alley, he noticed an older door that was slightly ajar. He crept towards it, staying in the shadows. He gloved hand slowly pushed the door open wider and a blast of heat met his face. Momentarily stunned, he backed away from the door. The heat was now radiating around the open door and more smoke drifted lazily out the door. Taking a deep breath under the mask, Batman entered the building.

The small part of Bruce under all the Batman layers was slightly appalled. Batman made his way up the stairs, only to find a large room with only the small, dirty window. The shocking part was the large incinerator tucked neatly into the wall.

"What…" He growled, moving towards the beast, the shirt still in his hand. The door had blown open and inside the flames were ravaging…something. It was too late for him to recognize the lump of ashes, but Batman knew. He looked down at the shirt in his hands and he knew. The flames were bright and occasionally flicking out of the machine like a snake's tongue. He stood there, mesmerized by the fire. It was the unbearable heat that eventually cleared his head.

"Gordon." He rasped, the cell phone already to his ear. The commissioner was a little shocked to hear the malice in the Batman's voice. Batman told him the address and then paused. "I found a shirt. It was one of the girl's that went missing recently, I'm almost positive." He hung up and left the building, hiding out on the next rooftop, waiting to speak to Gordon in person.

The police arrived fast, and for that Batman was thankful. As the team rushed into the building, Gordon detached himself and soon was face to mask with the Batman.

"I found the shirt in the alley. I have good reason to believe that it was her in the- incinerator." Batman continued to tell the commissioner about the previous nights events.

"We'll call her parents. Do you believe this is the work of the Phoenix?" Commissioner Gordon's face was grim and there were worry lines on his face.

"Yes. The Narrows were unusually quiet tonight. The people here know something's up. I'll be in touch." Batman disappeared, leaving Gordon to investigate the building and it's atrocities further.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred stumbled upon Bruce in the cave, taking off the suit. Bruce didn't say anything. He didn't know _how _to even explain what he had found tonight.

"I think the Phoenix is even worse than the Joker was Alfred. And tonight was just the beginning." Memories flashed through Bruce's mind of the Joker and his demented, yet comical demeanor. The Joker had been insane, crazy, and ruthless. He had taken away one of Bruce's dearest friends. But whoever was running this cult scared Bruce more.

"Well Sir, whenever you wish to talk about it." Alfred went back upstairs in the lift, leaving Bruce wondering the fate of the other two missing girls in the dark cave.

* * *

SO~ I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. There was a lot of Bruce in this chapter, but that's ok! I have a feeling I'm going to have to boost the rating up to mature, just so ffnet doesn't get on my butt. XD

Thanks again for all the reviews!

My friend and I are currently working together on the villainous subplot so be prepared for a bunch of stuff! I really hope you're enjoying this fiction so far!Please keep reviewing. The reviews inspire me to not drop this story, so I want at least three more. That's not too hard is it?

UNTIL NEXT TIME!-K


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: This is merely a work of fiction. I, do not in anyway, own the marvelous Batman (or Bruce :c ) All rights and ownership belong to DC comics. I DO own my plotline and Nicolette. Enjoy!

Hope you're all liking this fic so far! I know I am!

I'm so sorry for the delayed update. I had an extremely long week. I really dislike this chapter, but I felt guilty for not getting something out. Please bear through this chapter.

Thanks for all the kind reviews. c:

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Nicolette muttered groggily when her alarm went off at exactly eight o'clock. She got up lazily from her bed, heading for the kitchen. All that she needed was a nice cup of coffee. Nicolette opened her door and picked up the paper that was laying in the hallway, just like she did any other morning. Except this was no ordinary paper. The entire front page was splattered with pictures of her… and Bruce Wayne. She grimaced as she read the matching article.

_Bruce Wayne's new woman! Gotham's Prince was found strolling through the garden at the Gotham Business Banquet last night with a woman that was definitely not last week's girl. With a little research, she turned out to be Nicolette Anderson, co-owner of a ballet studio downtown. A few of last nights party-goers informed us that her and Bruce seemed mighty familiar, chatting at dinner and then leaving together to get some 'air'. Some aren't convinced that this will last though. They were seen separating with a chaste kiss on the cheek. Has Gotham's Prince finally decided to go for someone else or has he just lost his touch? Is Ms. Anderson just another fling? I guess we'll just have to wait and see! _

Nicolette was disgusted by the article.

"I barely even know the man and they think we're dating!" She exclaimed, throwing the paper down on the table. The media had never appealed to Nicolette, and now it seemed even slimier. Nicolette grabbed her cup of coffee and then headed back into her room, to shower.

Some time later, Nicolette was riding the train to another section of Gotham entirely. Not downtown, but another portion of the suburbs, where Gotham Community College lay. Sure, with her parent's connections she could've taught at Gotham U, but she liked the feel of the community college much better. At her stop, she departed the train and walked the few blocks to the campus. Nicolette's lecture hall wasn't too far from the campus entrance, so she took her time walking there.

Once she got to her destination, she entered her class, seeing a few students milling around and chatting. She had ten minutes till class would start, so she headed into the back, where her office was. Nicolette draped her coat over her large, rolling chair and smoothed down her knee-length black skirt. On top, she matched a deep purple sat shirt, which was neatly tucked in. On her feet she wore a modest pair of flats. Heels were never Nicolette's thing.

She busied herself with the day's lecture notes until the campus bell rang at nine-thirty. Nicolette strode out into the large hall, greeting her class with a smile and 'Good Morning.' Internally, she counted the empty chairs, noting that five students were absent. That worried her. Still, she began the day smiling.

Nicolette's class went fairly well, despite the nagging worry about the missing kids. When the 90-minute period was up, she waved good bye to everyone and then went back into her office, having now till one o'clock off. Nicolette contemplated going home, but decided to head into the city and maybe pay a visit to Marina, who was doing clerical work at the studio. So off she went, catching an in-bound train. If only took a few minutes to get to her destination and Nicolette left the train, a slight bounce in her step. It was a rare, bright and sunny Gotham day. She walked down the block and smiled when she finally made it to her beloved studio. Nicolette pushed open the doors, called a 'hello' and walked into the office.

Boy, was it a sight to see. The phone was ringing literally every two seconds and Nicolette watched as Marina's annoyance flared higher as the phone trilled.

"Popular?" Nicolette laughed, standing in the doorway. Marina, finally noticing her audience, grumbled under her breath.

"No, but you sure are." Marina pushed the 'ignore call' button on the phone again. "Reporters have been calling _all morning, _asking for _Miss Anderson please. _They want details!" Marina stood up and put on a cheery, mocking face. "When are Miss Anderson an Bruce seeing each other again? Exactly how long have they been seeing each other? Has he bought her jewelry yet? Will they be eloping?" Her voice became more and more sarcastic as she spoke.

"Well… I was thinking June. Summer you know?" Nicolette said, scratching her head.

"Oh not even funny Olette." Marina warned. "I am up to _here _with this damn media." Marina's face was one full of aggravation.

"Hey now," Nicolette put up her hands in defense. "How about I take us out? Coffee on me?"

"Fine. I need some caffeine." Some of the tension in Marina's face lifted and she grabbed her coat to go. The pair quickly departed and locked up, the phone still ringing behind them. Nicolette and Marina headed off to a local coffee shop, the tension quickly melting away. When they reached their destination, they casually occupied a high bar table near the window.

The aroma in the shop was one that people would pay money to have bottled and sold. Nicolette inhaled the blend of coffees and spices as she waited for their server to arrive. When he did, she and Marina each ordered a large coffee and a bagel to go with it. The friends fell into an easy banter, but Marina's curiosity finally broke free.

"So exactly how handsome is he?" She blurted out, making Nicolette sigh.

"Extremely." She said sipping her cup of coffee,.

"Was he nice? I mean the papers-"

"I thought you didn't care for the media, Mar?" Nicolette said, interrupting her. Marina rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her bagel.

"It doesn't mean that I don't read Olette. I'm just honestly interested in my _dearest _friend's relationship life." At this Nicolette scoffed.

"Mar, I'm not going to throw myself at any man that happens across my life."

"Olette, how long has it been?" Marina prompted. Nicolette pursed her lips. "Exactly." Marina said after a moment. _Just because she's engaged she thinks she's the expert… _Nicolette thought to herself.

"I'm twenty-five Mar. There's plenty of time for men later. Right now I have my career to focus on." _Especially since my dream just began._

"All I'm saying is, don't let an opportunity pass you." _Blah, Blah, Blah. _

"Bruce Wayne is not an opportunity. Weren't you entirely against this last night?"

"I never told you to not pursue this… I just told you to be aware of the press." Marina muttered, a glint in her eyes. Nicolette just took another gulp of coffee and looked out the window, only to wish she hadn't.

"Shit." She cussed, turning her head from the window.

"What?" Marina asked, looking around.

"There's photographers across the street." Nicolette said, trying to look comfortable as she sipped her coffee.

"Well then that's our cue to leave." Marina left the bill on the table and grabbed Nicolette's hand, heading for the door. Marina pulled her from the shop, but it wasn't long before a reporter caught up to them.

"Miss Anderson!" She called, tapping Nicolette on the shoulder.

"Please enlighten me, what is it that you want?" Nicolette turned on the reporter, a slight frown on her face.

"I just have a few questions!" The woman said earnestly. With that, she launched into her spiel. Nicolette barely listened to the buzzing questions that resembled the one's from that morning's paper.

"I met Mr. Wayne yesterday. There is no relationship, as there is barely a friendship. Now please, tell your offices to stop plaguing my studio with calls." At this, Marina shook her head fervently. "If you'll excuse me, I have a _real _job to get back to." With those parting words, Nicolette left Marina and a shocked interviewer behind, ready to catch the train back to the college.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Bruce slept and slept and slept. He didn't get off easily though, as his sleep was plagued with nightmares. He tossed and turned, images of the last night rambling throughout his , around noon, Alfred decided to wake him up, to put him out of his unconscious misery.

"Master Wayne, it is nearly noon." Alfred opened the drapes of the bedroom, allowing bright sunlight to enter. Bruce whined from under the covers. "Your shake is on the nightstand and your breakfast and newspaper are in the kitchen." Alfred left, a smirk playing on his face.

It took a few minutes**, **but Bruce finally fell out of the bed and into the first pushup of the day. While he exercised, reflections from last night kept pouring into his head. The fire, the shirt, that god-awful _heat. _Usually, he wouldn't let anything from Batman's cases to leak into his normal persona, but last night was traumatizing. Bruce finished quickly, hoping that with breakfast, he could put these thoughts behind him.

At the table, Bruce was mostly silent as he ate and Alfred could tell he was doing some serious thinking. As he picked up the paper though, a lighter look appeared on his face.

"I see the papers believe you have a new woman." Alfred stated.

"The media jumps to conclusions." Bruce muttered offhandedly, scanning the article. Once done, he place is back on the table. "I _did_ ask her out…. She seems…different." Alfred smiled and began cleaning up the breakfast dishes.

"And when exactly are you taking her out Sir?"

"Well you see…" Bruce chuckled. "I have to plan around her schedule. She's a _very _busy woman." Alfred laughed as well.

"Well I suppose it's a good thing." Bruce stood up from the table and stretched.

"Could you get a car ready Alfred? I think it's time to do a little…reconnaissance." Alfred was still laughing when Bruce left the room.

Bruce casually strolled through the halls of the Manor and eventually winded up back in his room. Standing before his very large and very full closet, he decided to wear some casual clothes. He picked out a pair of dark blue jeans- one of the only pairs he owned- and a black long-sleeved sweater. By the time he was finished dressing Alfred had appeared in the doorway, announcing that the car was ready. The pair left the Manor an Bruce climbed into the back of a shiny black Volvo. Alfred, capable behind the wheel, quickly pulled away from Wayne Manor and they left the Palisades for Downtown Gotham.

When they reached the heart of the city, Bruce asked Alfred to pull over and let him out.

"Whenever you desire to be pick up Master Wayne." Alfred said. _God, he makes me feel like a three year old. _

"Actually Alfred, I believe I'm going to be staying at the Penthouse tonight." In truth, Bruce was getting a little uncomfortable at the Manor. Alfred merely nodded and pulled away. Bruce started walking, hoping to blend with the crowds of people. He had an idea of what he was going to do, but he would have to be might lucky. _You're just keeping up appearances, _he reassured himself. As Bruce walked down Gotham's main street, his eyes searched the building on either side, looking for a ballet studio. _I should've just gotten her number… but she probably wouldn't have given it to me. _Bruce continued down the street, unaware of the sidelong glances he was receiving from the passing women.

As he was about to give up hope, his eyes landed on a sign declaring the building as a ballet studio. _That must be the one. _Bruce peered inside the large, floor to ceiling windows, but didn't seen any occupants. He decided to try the door for good measure, and was surprised when it opened freely. _Here goes nothing._ Bruce was taken aback by his recent nervousness. He put on his infamous 'smile' though, and slipped into his Prince of Gotham façade.

"Hello?" He called, walking through the empty main hall. Bruce came to a door labeled 'OFFICE' and he slowly opened the door.

"Excuse me-" A slightly Spanish voice called out, but abruptly stopped.

"I'm looking for a Nicolette Anderson. Is she here?" Bruce said, giving a charming smile. The woman stood up from her desk and started walking towards him.

"Does it _look _like she's here?" Her voice was sarcastic as she looked around the room.

"Well… no."

"Exactly. Now, you might think this is all a big joke Mr. Wayne, but _this _is a place of business. And because of your recent jaunt with _my _friend and associate, newspapers have been harassing my office all day and this _visit _will only encourage them further." Bruce's smile dropped a little bit.

"I'm sorry about the press, but I really am looking for Nicolette…"

"Well she's obviously not here." The woman said in a huff. She moved back behind her desk and sat down. "Nicolette is only working here on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays." The woman rifled through some papers as Bruce waited. He thought he heard her mutter something like 'yeah but she's here anyways running electricity and our water…'

"Would you be so kind as to tell me where I can find her?" He asked after a minute of silence.

"She'll bite my head off you know."

"Don't worry, I'll fend her off." Bruce laughed.

"She's halfway through her last class of the day as the community college. You better get their quick. Right after she heads to rehearsal and she will _not _tolerate being late for that." The woman repeated, glossing over what seemed to be a schedule.

"Thank you…?"

"Marina, Marina Santona." Bruce threw Marina another smile and started off for the door. Before he got there though, Marina called out again. "Hey Bruce! If you ever, _ever, _mess with her, or hurt her in anyway, you will have me and the entire Santona family against you."

"I understand." Bruce nodded and strolled out of the building. Quickly, he headed for the Gotham Lines.

It seemed like ages since Bruce had ridden the city lines, and as he boarded, he felt a sense of remembrance. He sat near a window, trying to avoid the ever-curious stares of the other passengers. Sadly, it wasn't working. A woman with two young children kept giving him the 'look' and Bruce's eyes kept meeting hers uncomfortably. When his stop arrived, he was more than glad to leave the train.

The campus of Gotham Community College seemed decent enough. There was a large grassy area leading up to the first few buildings. It was quiet- just a few people milling about. Honestly, Bruce had no idea where to start. He passed a small cluster of students and one of them whispered, 'That's him- Bruce Wayne. He must be looking for _her.'_

"Excuse me, Mr. Wayne?" One of the group spoke up. Bruce turned and plastered on a slightly-amused smiled.

"Yes?"

"Miss Anderson's class is in building one." _So they do read. Tabloids…_ The group laughed as another girl muttered something inappropriate.

"Thanks." Bruce tossed, walking briskly towards the building labeled 'one.' To his amusement, his nerves started jumping as he walked down the corridor, looking for a door proclaiming the lecture hall as Nicolette's. _Bruce, you are twenty-nine years old. You are Batman for God's sake. Calm down. _As he consoled himself, a sudden flicker of Rachel happened across his mind, causing him to pause in the hallway. _Rachel… _It was true that he'd never forgive himself for what happened with the Joker. Though Bruce _had _never known what Miss Dawes had written in that letter, he would always wonder their fate. For now though, he had come to the conclusion that he needed to try to move on.

A sharp ringing brought him from his melancholy thoughts. _Shit, I need to move. _Bruce walked down the hall a little more, now weaving through the students who fled their rooms quickly. A name plate with the last name 'Anderson' caught his eye and he slipped into the large lecture hall. A few stragglers looked up and turned to each other, whispers leaving their lips. Bruce ignored them and continued through the room, noticing another door that seemed to lead to an office.

"Knock knock." Bruce said, rapping his knuckles on the door. Nicolette, who was currently stuffing papers and a laptop into her satchel, looked up and sighed.

"_Yes?" _Her question was left unanswered until she had gathered up her coat and other belongings.

"We still need to schedule our date." He said, following her out the door. Nicolette turned off the lights and waited for him to leave the hall. Once he did, she followed and began leading the way down the hallway.

"Now is really not a good time. I'm sorry, but I'm kind of in a hurry." She looked it too, Bruce noted. Her hair was up in a sloppy bun and strands were tumbling around her face. Splotches of red were thrown against her cheeks as he rushed to follow her down the hall and outside.

"Listen we can talk on the way to your rehearsal." He shot her a smile.

"You've talked to Marina." She muttered, sending him an even glance. Bruce only smiled. "Fine-fine. I guess it's unavoidable. I swear though, if I'm late on account of you…. The press will _really _have a story on their hands."

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Nicolette felt hounded. First Marina, then the papers, and then even her students in class. And now, Bruce himself had appeared out of thin air. Her mind finally slowed down and she took in her current surroundings. She and Bruce were sitting across from each other on the train. She had her workout clothes… her college material… her purse, she checked.

"_Nicolette?_" Bruce waved a hand in front of her face.

"Sorry. Continue."

"Can you at least grace me with your phone number? If you're to busy to contact in person…" Nicolette rolled her eyes and jokingly slapped his arm.

"I'm just getting used to my new schedule. I have big opportunities ahead of me." Nicolette grabbed a loose piece of paper from her notebook and scratched out her cell and home number.

"So what are your _huge _opportunities?"

"Moving up in the ballet industry before it's too late." She muttered, looking out of the window. "I'm more in shape than any of those young girls in the company. Hell, I'm more in shape than most people."

"What type of martial arts do you study?" He asked, remembering her comment the night before.

"I started with a very simple form of Kung Fu when I was very young. I continued with that as it got more intense. Then during my late teen years I added on Ju Jistsu, which helps with ballet and vice versa."

"Interesting. You'll have to show me your skills sometime. I, too, have studied martial arts." Nicolette snorted.

"Sure, definite first date material."

"You think so?" Bruce countered.

"Oh yeah. I'll definitely call you about it. But _this _is my stop. And I need to get going." Nicolette patted his cheek as she stood and quickly left the train.

Nicolette _did _make it on time to rehearsal, and by the time she left, she felt like going home and sleeping for hours. When she did get back to her condo, she collapsed on the couch and turned on the television. The Gotham News blared out at her, depicting a horror scene.

"Last night, Gotham Police Commissioner was called to the crime scene by an anonymous tip. What he found is quite disturbing." A screen shot of a large incinerator, ashes still presumably inside, was placed on the screen. Nicolette felt her eyes widen.

"The victim of this crime is not yet confirmed, but clues and leads have led Commissioner to believe that this was seventeen year old Caddie Everman. The police have asked that if you or anyone you know has any information to go to the police right away." Nicolette's mouth was wide as the reporter droned on. _Caddie.. Oh dear god Caddie. She's dead…_

"Lucy and Krysten…I hope that they're ok." A ringing phone made Nicolette jump. She picked up the cordless phone next to the couch.

"Hello?"

"Nicolette?" It was Bruce.

"Oh, Bruce, hi." She sighed and laid back on the couch. "Listen, if you really want to, I'm free tomorrow morning from six until eight. I know, weird hours… but that's the best I can do."

"Six, gosh, you're killing me here."

"I know I know. I'm sure you're used to sleeping until noon. The fancies of being rich and powerful I suppose. If you're up to it, stop by the studio. I'll leave the door unlocked." She bid him a goodnight and then hung up.

Not five minutes later though, her phone rang again. This time is was her mother.

"Mom… hi," She said wearily.

"When did you start seeing Bruce Wayne?" Her voice was sharp.

"Mom, you of all people know better than to believe the _tabloids._ I distinctly remember you lecturing me on the falseness years ago." Her mother huffed and then clicked her tongue.

"You still didn't answer my question." Her tone became cold and calculating, which immediately set off Nicolette.

"Mother, I am a grown adult and can see and do what I please. Now goodnight." The call was ended and Nicolette retired to her bedroom, making sure the door was locked. Once settled in her cocoon of blankets it finally hit her. _Bruce Wayne. Holy shit._ She began to question the reality of her current situation. _How strange…_

"I guess I'll just see what tomorrow brings." She smiled and rolled over, thinking about the handsome man in a sparring match with herself.

* * *

Once again, sorry for such a shitty chapter. The next one will be better I PROMISE.  
And hopefully I'll have it up within a week's time.  
Reviews are appreciated!~


	5. Chapter Four

**Hello all! Here is chapter four! I hope you all enjoy it! Be prepared for Nicolette and Bruce time! WOOO!**

**I AM SO SORRY.^ Trufax. This update took way longer and I am truly sorry. I was stuck in a rut halfway through and it took some time to break through it. But now, here it is. Enjoy.**

**Thank you to my reviewers. Really, you push me to continue.**

**Please, I ask you to review. Just a smiley face would make me feel pushed to write and write. Anything more is loved.**

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

The sun was barely awake when Nicolette began to rise. Her alarmed blared at 4:45 a.m. and she struggled to awake. Around five minutes later she dragged herself from the warms confines of her bed and into the bathroom, where she slugged through the morning routine. It was only fifteen minutes later when she emerged, now clad in workout pants, a tank top, and gym shoes. Nicolette picked through her room, throwing together a bag in which she had: formal clothes for work and her ballet gear for later. It was nearing half past when Nicolette left, bagel and coffee in hand.

The train was fairly empty, minus a few sleeping vagrants. Nicolette sat by herself, watching the few streaks of sunlight appear low on the horizon. A few butterflies were hopping around inside her stomach, letting Nicolette know of her slight nervousness. Bruce Wayne didn't seem particularly intimidating, but Nicolette had been too long without any sort of male interaction on more than a platonic playing field. _It'll be fine…_

When her stop finally arrived, her watch told her that she had twenty minutes until Bruce was supposed to show up. Nicolette walked leisurely down the street, her breath visible and curling in the cool Gotham air. Her presence on the streets this early was routine by now. Between workouts, work, and rehearsal, Nicolette felt used to the bustle of the city. She took in the semi-quiet surroundings as she walked, and she soon found herself outside the studio.

Nicolette entered the building, turning on the lights as she went. She felt more at home here than she did at her actual house. Nicolette went back to the yellow room and dropped her bag on the floor.

"I should probably put out the mats… just in case." She mused, looking around the room. Nicolette made way for the supply closet and starting pulling out dark blue, padded floor mats, trying to quell the few butterflies roaming her stomach. Once she had them properly placed around the room she started a set of push-ups, determined to not become flustered.

"I'm-acting-like-such-a-ditzy-teenager." She muttered in between each 'up.' "He's just another guy." _Yeah, one that has a playboy reputation. _Something in her didn't agree with that thought though. _I guess I'll just have to find out…_

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

"This better be worth it." Bruce grumbled, slouching out of his bed. He had purposely come home early that morning, around one-thirty, because he _knew_ that getting up at five would be brutal. His room in the penthouse was warm and extremely dark when Alfred entered to pry Bruce out of bed. Thankfully Bruce was actually complying this morning, so the task wasn't such a feat.

"I've taken the liberty of laying out your clothes, Master Wayne." Alfred flicked on the lights, causing a blinded Bruce to trip.

"Thanks Alfred." Bruce muttered, sitting down as his eyes adjusted to the lighting. Alfred stifled a chuckle and left the room, leaving Bruce to shower.

The hot water of the luxurious shower cleared Bruce's mind and soothed the bruises scattered along his back. Something was making him almost… _nervous. Am I giving too much of myself away? _He pondered, letting the rushing water slick his hair back. _I'm already past the façade with her… Though, I was never really in it either._ Bruce finished his shower with these thoughts permeating through his mind. Once out, he dried off and dressed in what was 'proper' workout clothes.

"Hopefully she won't ask about these." Bruce said, examining the few ghastly bruises decorating his forearms. He barely even felt the bruises anymore, since he was used to them. Finally noticing the time, he towel-dried his hair and let it hang loosely, not feeling the need to slick it back. With twenty minutes to spare, Bruce left the grandiose bathroom.

"Sir, may I suggest you eat _something?_" Alfred stood in the large, window-filled room, a tray of food in his hands. Bruce rolled his eyes and grabbed a piece of toast and his coffee.

"I'll eat later Alfred. I promise." Bruce laughed as he looked out onto the waking city of Gotham.

"You say that now…" Alfred muttered under his breath. Bruce ate his small meal and finished up his coffee in silence.

"I better be off." He walked towards the elevator, avoiding Alfred's stern eyes. Once the doors began sliding shut he heard Alfred call,

"Don't let her beat you up too bad Master Wayne. I'm afraid the Batman doesn't need anymore bruises!" Bruce laughed and the doors finally closed. The elevator took no time in getting to the parking garage and Bruce casually slid into an already running car. He drove out of the complex, having only a few minutes before six o'clock. Now the streets of Gotham were beginning to fill with the early workday rush and Bruce had to wait for pedestrian crossings, so it was a few minutes after six when he pulled up to the studio. He parked on the curb, and slipped some money into the parking meter as he passed.

The door was unlocked, just like Nicolette had promised. _She really shouldn't be keeping her doors unlocked…not now._ Bruce pondered as he walked through the main hall, much like yesterday. Towards the back of the room one door was opened, and light was emanating from inside. Bruce took a deep breath and stepped inside.

"Knock knock." He called, a small smile on his face. He watched as Nicolette fell out of her push-up and whipped her head around to meet his eyes.

"You showed up." She muttered, standing. Bruce laughed and walked towards her.

"You thought I was going to stand you up?" Bruce feigned a broken heart. Nicolette rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Well I wasn't sure how difficult these hours are for you." _You have no idea. _Bruce shifted a little uncomfortably at her statement.

"Something about a chance to see you fight me dragged me from my amazing, heated bed." He smirked and walked towards Nicolette, watching her almost-transparent blue eyes flicker with annoyance. As he got closer, his feet now sticking to the blue mats, he watched as her posture changed, stiffened. In response, his own muscles tensed up and he had to remind himself to not put too much effort into any sparring that occurred. The Prince of Gotham was definitely not known for his strength and wrestling capabilities.

As his circuit around Nicolette came to a close, the first strike was delivered, by Bruce himself. A lunge to the right sent Nicolette into a defensive position and then the sparring began. Bruce did seem to have the upper hand in strength, but Nicolette was much, much faster. She danced circles around him, getting in quite a few good punches. Whatever Bruce lacked in speed and flexibility though, he made up for in being able to anticipate Nicolette's next move. He was able to block her and get a hold on her arms from behind.

"Tired?" He murmured in her ear when Nicolette stopped struggling.

"You wish." Bruce was stunned for a moment, and that was all Nicolette needed. Before he could even register her movements, Nicolette had Bruce pinned on the ground with one foot. With one fast movement, Bruce's arm hit the back of her kneecap, sending Nicolette to the ground in an exhausted heap. Bruce sat up, breathing a little heavier than usual.

"It was a good match." He laughed, extending his hand for her to shake. Nicolette turned to him and grudgingly placed her hand in his.

"You're stronger than I expected." At this they both laughed. Bruce glanced at the clock on the wall and it proclaimed 6:30.

"So what now?" He asked, looking over at Nicolette. He could tell she was tired, but not so much from the sparring. She just _looked _tired in general. Bruce watched as she brushed the loose hair from her face and stood up, stretching her muscles. Nicolette extended a hand towards Bruce and smirked.

"Are you up for a workout pretty boy?" Bruce accepted her hand, a smile tugging on his lips.

"I think the _accurate _question is: Are _you _ready for a workout Miss Anderson?"

An hour later, Bruce collapsed on the floor next to Nicolette.

"You do this every morning?" He asked, somewhat breathless. He had to admit, her workouts were intense.

"Every morning." Nicolette stretched her legs out in front of her and laid her head back on the wall. "You kept up though. I guess I underestimated you." _You're walking on thin ice Bruce. She's already catching on._

"Well, we still have thirty minutes officially left of our date, so would you like to go get a bit to eat?"

"Oh why not. Just give me a moment." Nicolette stood up and walked towards a back room, leaving Bruce on the floor.

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Nicolette entered the locker room and immediately thoughts started racing through her head. _Did that really just happen? I just…_ It wasn't even the fact of _who_ she was with that astounded her. Just the fact that she had spent more than an hour with a man that she enjoyed. Nicolette made her way to the mirrors in the back of the room and wiped the sweat off of her forehead. Her hair was wet with perspiration, but she just brushed that back into her usual ponytail. Once she was sure that her appearance was tolerable for the public eye she emerged back into the mirrored-room.

"Alright let's go. But I don't have too much time." She heard Bruce mumbled something like 'of course you don't,' and then they exited the studio. On the street, a different chemistry erupted between them; something that felt a little more commercial. Nicolette glanced at Bruce, who's face now held that smile she had seen on the front pages of the tabloids. In all the time they had just spent, she had not seen that smile once.

"This place is fine." She said, pointing out the same small café that her and Marina had eaten in the day before. The duo quietly took a small table towards the back, as Bruce tried to appear nonchalant and inconspicuous.

"They _will_ notice you. You know that right?" Nicolette muttered, her eyes glossing over the menu. Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his slightly damp hair.

"I was hoping that maybe they'd just stop paying attention." Nicolette laughed.

"Sorry Bruce ol' boy. But you do remember who you are?" She waved a hand at him. "One lousy date with _moi _isn't going to bring your social status down that much."

"That's not what I meant and you know it." He rolled his eyes, but suddenly something on the flat screen t.v. in the back caught his attention. Nicolette turned, her eyes grazing the screen. It was another news report.

"_Another body has been found, badly burned and almost past recognition. This is the second time in less than two days that something of this nature has been discovered. We're here with Commissioner Gordon to get a take on what is going on._

'_Commissioner?'_

'_I'm sorry, but not much is known yet and many leads are coming in. This body has been identified as another young woman, between the ages of sixteen and nineteen. No names yet I'm afraid. I will pass along a warning though. It seems we have a new threat in Gotham. Women, and young women especially, watch yourselves in these streets."_

The broadcast ended and the other people in the café turned back to their own conversations. Nicolette watched Bruce's face. He seemed angry, and strangely… grim. His face was a contortion of hard lines and a grimace.

"Bruce?" Nicolette patted his hand and he turned back to her quickly.

"I'm sorry, but I just remembered a meeting that I have this morning. Very important." He smiled, but it wasn't the smile that Nicolette knew. It was fake.

"I understand. Please, I know how important work is." Bruce stood and leaned towards her, quickly giving her cheek a kiss.

"I really am sorry." He left as quickly as his mood had shifted and Nicolette sat at the table, slightly confused. A waiter sauntered up to her now and asked her if she'd like to order. Nicolette declined and left the café, a knot tugging in her stomach.

Nicolette practically sprinted down the street, wanting to get back in the studio. By now Marina would've arrived and she _needed _to speak with her. When she got back outside the building, Bruce's car was gone.

"Work meeting my ass." She muttered. One thing she knew for sure was that Bruce Wayne was notorious for being late. Nicolette entered the building and was relieved to see the light on in the office.

"Mar!" She called, sliding into the room.

"Olette, details now." Marina pushed Nicolette into a chair opposite her desk and then sat, needing to hear the story.

"There's really not that much to tell Mar."

"Oh ha-ha. Olette, you invited Gotham's sexiest man to our _studio_ at six in the morning to work out with you. Sexy man plus equally fabulous woman _plus _working out _alone, _does not equal 'not that much.'"

"Well… besides the sparring…"

"You _fought _him! Jesus Olette, are you trying to ruin any chance of a relationship!"

"Hey now! He was extremely adept at fighting. More so than I could've even imagined. I think he was actually holding back." She muttered.

"Nicolette, what I am going to do with you?" Marina grumbled.

"It went well, I swear. He's really nice and strong…" Nicolette remembered the instance when he thought she was giving up. The way his hands felt, tight on her arms. She let her mind start to wander, that is, until Marina cleared her throat.

"So…? Are you going to meet up again?"

"That's actually what I was going to talk to you about. We were at the café down the street and the news flips on."

"I heard it on the radio. Terrifying yeah?"

"Yeah it really is… but, Bruce, he just got all… I can't even aptly describe it. His face hardened. Then he turned to me, told me he had an important business meeting, and left."

"Are you sure you just didn't smell bad?" Marina asked, wrinkling her noise.

"Mar! God, I can't even do this right now. I need to get to work. I'll talk to you later."

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

After seeing the news report, Bruce needed to get back to the manor. _Needed to. _He felt horrible having to leave Nicolette, who was most likely very confused, but he had a duty. _I learned my lesson with the Joker. If only I hadn't told Gordon that the mob was more important to take down. If I had just started that case earlier… maybe… she would still be here. Maybe Harvey would still be alive. This whole mess…_

Bruce drove towards the Palisades, his mood far grimmer than it had been in the past months. In his head he was already thinking, plotting. _Obviously there's a new serial killer on the loose. The last thing that Gotham needs. _Bruce pulled into the driveway, quickly shut the car off, and started walking up the steps into the house. He started a mental checklist of things he knew. _Each of the bodies have been disposed of with fire. The first, complete disintegration, the second, full body burns. _Now Bruce was in the house, making his was towards the study, and his destination: the cave. _The Phoenix are most likely the source, though the grunts seem to be clueless or brainwashed. Gunpowder and weapons are their main imports._

Bruce entered the hidden elevator, and stood with his back rigid. As the lift descended his mind shifted over to the Batman. He had research to do. And tonight, he knew that he had plenty of work to do.

Hours later, Alfred finally found him. Bruce was sitting in front of the computers, his eyes glossing the documents and photos that he had dug up from encrypted files and emails. He was silent, but Alfred could tell that there were a thousand things running through his mind.

"Did your date go well sir?" Alfred asked, coming up to stand next to him. Alfred was merely trying to ease the biting tension in the room.

"I believe so yes." Bruce murmured, his eyes still glued to the screen.

"Will you be seeing Miss Anderson again?" Alfred prompted, trying to get some sort of emotional response from Bruce.

"I don't know. Seeing as I practically ran out on her today…" Bruce pulled away from the monitors and looked at Alfred, his eyes clearing as if he had just woken up.

"And may I ask why exactly you left her Master Wayne?"

"Alfred, I can't let this murderer get any farther. Already two people have died. Two people too many. If I don't act now, it could end up exactly like last time." Bruce set his elbow on the desk and placed his head in his hand. Alfred had no response for him this time. He knew from experience that nothing he could utter would bring Bruce from his internal battle.

"I've made dinner," He said at last. "I do implore that you eat before you go." Bruce nodded, knowing that his stomach was fairly empty.

"I'll need the energy tonight." Bruce rose and followed Alfred back to the lift. Once the gates closed and the elevator started to rise, the layers of intensity started to melt away.

"So how _was_ Miss Anderson today? Did she whoop Bruce Wayne into shape?" Alfred chuckled.

"She was fine Alfred, thanks for the concern." Bruce had a good laugh himself before he continued. "I didn't really know what to expect going in this morning, but she was extremely well-trained. Quick too." Flashbacks of the sparring match this morning replayed in his mind. _No wonder she does well at ballet_, he mused. _She's as lithe as a tiger and fast as well._

"You should call her before you leave. Make another arrangement." Alfred suggested as they walked out of the study and towards the kitchen.

"What time is it exactly?" Bruce asked.

"Around eight now I believe." _Damn, I've lost the whole day. I wonder what Nicolette thought when I left… or if she thought of it later. No, I bet she was too busy. _Bruce laughed at his own thoughts, earning a 'look' from Alfred. They arrived in the kitchen and Bruce grabbed the phone and went to sit at the table. It was almost completely dark, almost time for him to leave. Alfred brought a plate full of food and for once Bruce actually started eating, not just picking at it. Once he finished eating, he picked up the phone and dialed Nicolette's number, hoping she was at home.

"Hello?" A tired-sounding voice answered the phone.

"Nicolette? It's Bruce."

"Oh, Bruce hi." She sounded a little unsure, but it could've just been annoyance.

"Listen, I just wanted to apologize for running out on you today. It wasn't very gentleman-like." Bruce heard Nicolette laugh on the other end. He liked her laugh; it was solid and made him want to laugh along.

"Bruce really, it's not a problem. You have a company to run and meetings are important." There was a slight pause and Bruce was about to reply, but then Nicolette kept speaking. "But if there's anything wrong… it's really not any of my business, but you seemed a little, distressed. You can talk to me, if you really needed to." Bruce sucked in a sharp breath. _So she did notice. Damn it._

"Thank you for understanding." He rubbed his jaw line. "I want to make it up to you though." Nicolette began to protest, but Bruce cut her off. "Dinner, Friday night. Will you be able to make it?" On the other end Nicolette sighed.

"Give me a moment." Sounds of movement drifted through the speaker and into Bruce's head. _She's probably checking her day planner._ Bruce smirked. "I can fit it in on Friday. Does seven-thirty mesh with your _schedule?_"

"Well I don't know… my life is just so hectic. With the parties and the-"

"Eh-hem." Nicolette coughed.

"Yes, that works for me. Where should I pick you up?"

"I suppose my condo will _have _to do. Will it damage your ego to drive to my side of town?" Bruce laughed.

"You think I actually drive?"

"What?" Nicolette sounded shocked.

"Relax I'm joking. Give me your address." Nicolette relayed the information to Bruce and the two hung up on a good note. Bruce checked the time. Nine. _Time to suit up. _Bruce exited the kitchen and went back down to the cave. His suit was waiting for him and soon Bruce was slipping on all the pieces. Alfred came down, right before the cowl was placed on his head.

"Be careful tonight Master Wayne. These problems cannot be solved in a night." Bruce looked at Alfred, nodded minutely, and covered up the last piece of Bruce Wayne.

The night was oppressive over Batman. He was slinking through Gotham, sometimes avoiding the few police cars that he came upon. Tonight's first objective: check the crime scene that was discovered this morning. It was likely that a few officers would still be around, but it wasn't too troublesome. Batman came across the street and stuck to the shadows that clung to the alleys. He was right in his assumption that a few guar would still be around, but they weren't too vigilant. He easily climbed back onto a rooftop and then zoomed in on the actual scene.

The pavement was slightly discolored, but only where the chalk on the ground depicted the body had been. Other than that, there were no other signs of a struggle. It seemed the body had been dumped here, after it had been burned. Batman turned and started for the Narrows.

_Why does it always have to be the Narrows?_ The black form soared from the upper-middle class section of Gotham like a predator, on the prowl for one thing. The moon hung faintly in the background, partially covered by grey-black clouds. It was definitely a gloomy night.

It didn't take too long for Batman to reach his destination. The Narrows were actually abuzz tonight. Local bars were alight, people streaming in and out. Neon lights flickered from the pubs and restaurants. He'd have to really watch the shadows tonight. Batman headed towards the building where he'd found the first girl. It was in a quieter and darker section of the Narrows, but he hoped maybe there would be something for him to find. Luck, was in fact with him. As Batman closed in on the same alley, he also closed in on a subdued brawl.

Below him a large male probably early to mid twenties was struggling with a girl, younger, probably around seventeen or so.

"I said I just want to go home." The girl sounded scared. Scared and exhausted. "I've had enough of all this. Caddie was my friend." Now her voice began to crack and the guy pushed her ever closer against the wall. Batman was preparing himself to intervene, but he needed to hear if the girl was going to say anything else.

"Luce, come on, you know that wasn't my doing. Caddie did what she wanted." The man's voice was attractive, but held a bit of steel in it.

"Liar." She hissed. "You _let _them have Caddie. And now she's _dead._"

"Caddie made her own decisions. She chose what her fate ended up." The girl slapped the man hard across the face with such force that Batman startled a bit.

"They did something to her. Caddie was my best friend. This is some weird cult and I want to go _home." _The girl broke away from the guy and that's when the shadow descended into the alley.

"Shit." Batman stepped from the shadows and the man suddenly stepped away. "Well if it isn't good ol' Batty."

"Run." Batman growled at the girl. She took no time and was soon sprinting towards the lights of the bars streets away.

"The Phoenix. What do you know about them." Batman stalked towards the man and was soon pressing him against the grimy brick wall.

"I don't know anything." The man smiled a full set of white teeth. He was a good-looking guy; tall, shaggy brown hair, nice face, and a tad inconspicuous.

"How are you connected to Caddie Everman?" Batman rasped, shoving the man even harder into the stones.

"I'm not." The man smirked. "I met up with her friends and her, did some shit together. She did her own thing and broke apart from the group. Not my doing."

"_She _seems to think it was a lot more of your doing that you're owning up to."

"Lucy? She don't know anything. Little prude, no fun in her case." Batman released a punch, one that connected straight with the man's gut.

"I _know_ you know more." The man just coughed and smirked.

"Batman, you don't know anything." And then, things went south. The man pulled a gun from the waistband of his pants and four others slunk into the alleyway.

"How about we give you a little lesson?" The sound of gun's being cocked filled the silence and internally Batman sighed. One quick movement forward, he disarmed guy number one, but sent the other men into a shooting frenzy. The bullets were whizzing past and it wasn't soon before one actually made contact. Thankfully the suit lived up to his standards and the bullet didn't connect with any skin. Batman flew across the alley, throwing guns to the ground and mashing fist with faces. These guys were persistent though, and one after another they kept getting up.

"Haven't you had _enough?" _He growled, pounding another guy in the stomach, sending him to his knees. He was surprised no one else had shown up.

"The Phoenix are ever-lasting." A bloodied man wheezed. Batman bent down and looked at his face. It just so happened to be guy number one.

"What's your name?"

"They call me Red." 'Red' laughed, blood spattering on the pavement. "Don't think you've heard the last cry of the Phoenix, Batman. Because we will keep coming." With those parting words, everything went ablaze. The ground, the men, everything. Even Batman himself was burning.

_Up, get up._ Up he went. Soon he was atop the closest building, working to put out the little fire that was still covering him. Batman was coughing, the ash and smoke was rising from the scene below. _What the hell just happened?_ His mind was muddled, though it was usually exceptionally clear and focused. First thing, get the fire out. _Gordon._ He dialed the encrypted cell that he had Gordon supplied with.

"I have information. But first get the fire department to the Narrows." Gordon didn't hesitate. Within minutes Batman heard the sirens coming down the street, which meant it was time to move. He signaled for the Tumbler and was on his way to the cave.

Bruce was soot-covered when he released himself from the suit. It was well past two thirty and he has plenty of work to do. He had already briefed Gordon on every word the man and girl had spoken during his encounter. The Phoenix were now being tracked by both the police and the Batman. Next, the girl. Lucy. It took no time for him to identify her as the girl that had been reported missing only a few days ago. Tomorrow he'd find out if she made it home. Hopefully she was there now, sleeping peacefully. _I'm going to need to find a way to talk to her. Somehow._

All the information that he had gathered tonight confused him, but helped to open this case up. Red… he suspected that he was a higher ranking gang member. Bruce researched it on the computer, but came up with no plausible references to the name. _Perhaps I can get Gordon to relinquish some DNA results… if there are any left. _Bruce just didn't know where to go with this. He shut down the computer systems and entered the lift. The smoke was still clinging to his clothes. All he wanted was a shower and a peaceful sleep.

Alfred was awake in the study, and was duly shocked when a blackened Bruce entered the room. Bruce held up his hands in a 'no questions now' gesture.

"In the morning please, Alfred." Bruce was sore, aching from the deep bruise the gunshot left, and exhausted.

"As you wish, Sir." Bruce clapped Alfred on the shoulder and left, needing to find some sort of solace in sleep.

* * *

**So there you have it. Chapter four. Please please review. It really helps me to get these chapters out faster.**

**And, if there is anything you are confused about or you just have questions, feel FREE to ask~**

**Until next time, K.**


	6. Chapter Five

_So, hello again! Yes I know it's been a long long long time since I've updated. And I'm sorry. I just lost my inspiration to keep writing. But I feel obligated to finish this fic. So I will. Chapter five, here we come!_

_Note: I own nothing of the Batman franchise, that is DC's job. (Along with the amazing Mr. Christopher Nolan.) I only own Nicolette, my plot line, and the other characters I've created._

_ON WITH THE SHOW!_

* * *

_**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**_

The night quickly turned to an early dawn. It was cold today and threatening to rain. Nicolette sat in her living room, watching the heavy rain clouds condense and move across the city skyline. She has awoken around seven this morning, happy to have a class at noon instead of ten. She'd be able to work out later in the morning and have some much-needed relaxation time to herself.

So she sat, snuggled up on the couch, reading the paper. Nicolette wasn't exactly looking forward to any articles that might appear in today's edition. The front page though, wasn't prattling about Bruce Wayne, her, or any other trivial matter. More bodies. Discovered just the night before. Nicolette kept reading.

_Gotham: A Time of Terror Pt II? Last night five more charred bodies were found, this time fresh, in a blood-filled alleyway in the Narrows. In the past three days alone seven victims have been found- two of them identified. The newest victims are said to range from the ages of twenty to twenty-five, ethnicities varying. Whether or not this was a planned attack is not known and the GPD is working around the clock to try to stop this madness now._

_Is this the work of a serial killer? Another insanity-driven man like The Joker? God only knows. What's going on Gotham? _

Nicolette looked over the article twice, along with the accompanying photographs. It was a horror, an atrocity. _I still can't believe Lucy's gone… and Krysten and Lucy. Where are they?_ Outside, the storm finally broke, unleashing a downpour of rain. In the distance she could see flashes and streaks of blue and white lightning. The thunder that followed shook the whole room.

"If this keeps up I'm going to have to cancel my class." Nicolette said aloud. And keep up it did.

Four hours later the condition was only worse. Somewhere around ten o'clock the wind picked up and the rain was joined by hail.

"The weather seems to follow the mood of Gotham." She mused. Nicolette was still in loungewear, laying on her plush carpet reading. The newspaper sat, crinkled up, on the couch where she had left it once she read the article after her and Bruce's 'love.' The phone was to her right; she had called in to cancel her class for the day, thankful the college office agreed with her call. Even if they hadn't, the weather was so bad she wouldn't be able to make it there.

Nicolette had even called Barb, who assured her that there would still be rehearsal that afternoon. Even though she wasn't particularly thrilled about that, Nicolette looked at the bright side. _It's rare when I have this much time to myself._

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Alfred let Bruce sleep in today. After the early morning surprise of seeing a grime-covered and frayed Bruce, Alfred figured he could use a good rest. It was about noon when Alfred finally walked into Bruce's room. The man was still asleep, tangled in the bed sheets like a restless child. Outside, the thunder pierce the constant rhythm of the rain.

"Master Wayne." Alfred called his name as he pulled open the heavy, black-out curtains. The rain was pouring so hard it sounded like bullets against the glass.

"Hnn-Alfred? Bruce sat up groggily, wincing as the room lit up due to a flash of lightning.

"It is noon sir, and I've prepared a lunch. Come down to eat." Alfred felt bad ordering him around, but Bruce needed someone to remind him to eat.

"Alright I'll be there in a moment." Bruce slunk back against his pillows, quietly watching the storm outside. It fit his mood at the moment: angry, volatile, and dreary. He was glad Alfred has let him sleep so long. He probably would've ended up sulking anyhow. Bruce eventually got up and slugged through his push-ups and down to the kitchen. Whatever Alfred had made smelled good, but Bruce didn't feel like eating.

"You're going to eat Master Wayne, whether you want to or not." Bruce smiled; Alfred could always read him. Bruce stared at the plate of homemade food that Alfred had just placed in front of him. There was a loaded silence in the kitchen and Bruce knew that he needed to speak soon.

"Last night was… horrifying. Even for the Batman." He took a bite of food to stall time.

"Care to explain what happened Master Wayne? The papers aren't very well informed I'm afraid." Bruce started speaking, relaying every detail, every word, that he heard last night. Alfred listened, his face stoical. Bruce's tale lasted at least half an hour, and by the end of it he seemed mentally drained.

"Somehow I need to talk to Lucy." He muttered, taking a sip of juice. "She's an inside source. She knows more, much more, than I heard last night. I know it."

"I'll look into it for you Sir. Now finish your meal and take a hot bath. Those bruises must be aching by now." Bruce nodded. In all honestly, he was feeling rather sore.

"Polo's a rough sport." He grinned half-heartedly. It was their little inside joke.

"Extremely Sir." Alfred walked away, down to the cave. Bruce, his mind a million miles away, snapped open the paper only to find himself grimace. As he read the front page, his face became very grave.

"What am I going to do!" He whispered, his head handing. Bruce could almost picture Rachel lecturing him, not afraid to tell him exactly what she was thinking. _I miss that about her._

"I'll figure this out for Rachel, for Harvey." Bruce closed his eyes, grief overcoming him. No matter what he knew, he would always feel responsible for their death, both of them. Bruce sat like this for a while, his head down-shoulders slumped. Inside he felt the most vulnerable he had in months. It was only when he heard steps approaching that he sat back up and unfolded the newspaper once more.

The second page story wasn't too much of a shock. A full page spread filled with pictures and blurbs about Nicolette and himself. He sighed scanning the page. Some of the things he read were actually interesting. Nicolette grew up in Gotham and her parents were notable in the University scene. Definitely a well-brought up child with money. There was a quote from a Ms. Barbara Matthews, the head of the Gotham Ballet Company, but it didn't reveal much about Nicolette. Another blurb was taken from a waiter in the café that they had been to yesterday. 'It seemed as if Mr. Wayne was indifferent. He left a few minutes after they arrived, though his departure was quite rapid.'

"The media seems to think that you've broke up with Miss Anderson." Alfred remarked airly. Bruce frowned, seeing a picture of her confused face after he fled.

"It's hard to break up with someone you're not officially dating." Bruce offered up a small grin. "I've asked her to dinner on Friday." "It's nice to hear sir." Alfred looked at Bruce who was, again, perusing the article. "She's very pretty." He said, nonchalantly.

"Yes… she is…" Bruce replied offhandedly. He was still further investigating the news spread.

"But you don't just like her for her looks, right Master Wayne?"

"No of course not. She's extremely intelligent. Almost like…" He forbid himself to compare the two, out loud at least. Bruce looked at the picture again. _She really is gorgeous. _Her teeth were straight and her lips looked soft and pink. _Everything about her just screams 'delicate' but in reality she's not at all._ _And her eyes. _Bruce was entranced by them, even on the page. But as Bruce has said, it wasn't just her looks. He loved her wittiness, her sharpness of tongue, the way she treated him like a normal human being…

"Yes, different indeed." He murmured again.

* * *

**KRYSTEN HALLOWELL**

_It's warm. Very warm. Too warm._ Krysten sat in a dark room with four other girls. It was silent. No tears, no screaming, no chit chat to pass the aching hours. They were all past that phase. Now they were waiting, each one of them shivering despite the heat, their eyes wide and dilated from the drugs. In their heads the words the man had repeated over and over and over taunted them viciously. 'This life is tainted. You are ready to be born anew. Embrace the fire.'

They heard it everyday. Now they just sat, waiting to see who would crack next. At one point, the room was full, the girls crowding the space. Now there were only five. Five teenagers riddled on drugs and cult propaganda. They were told that once they'd embrace their 'fate,' they could leave the room and be treated as queens. Whatever that meant. Krysten wanted to leave the room. She barely remembered her name, let alone her life.

Standing up, she found herself yelling the words they had told her.

"My life is tainted! I am ready to be born anew! I embrace the fire!" The other girls only looked at her, their brains too muddled to care. Two men entered the room, not two minutes later, all dressed in red. They took Krysten by her arms, blindfolded her, and led her away. They walked for what seemed like eons, until they eventually stopped The blindfold was removed and a large, warm room lay before Krysten's eyes.

The floors were made of a dark grey stone, possibly slate. Around her the walls looked like old bricks painted over to be a dark maroon red. Along the back wall a row of girls sat, cloaked in red. Directly in front of her a tall man was standing.

"Welcome, daughter. You've seen the light, joined the enlightened. Soon enough, your new life will begin." His hood fell, revealing a white, deeply scarred face. Deep brown eyes squinted back at her. "The Phoenix welcomes you." A red robe was then placed around her and Krysten was directed to the back of the room. She sat down next to the last girl in line. Krysten looked sideways at her, only to realize that the girl was looking back at her.

"Wha-" Krysten was trying to put together a sentence, but her riddled brain wasn't allowing it. The other girls eyes grew wide, two large bloodshot orbs.

"Quiet." She mouthed. The tall group of hooded men advanced towards them. The leading man held a tray that was laden with brass cups. They started with Krysten.

"Drink." She was ordered and took a cup from them. The liquid inside smelled slightly medicinal, chalky, but also was reeking of liquor. Without a thought Krysten downed the drink, just as the others did. It went down slowly, the smell clogging her nose and the chalk-like residue sticking to her throat. Krysten's eyes felt heavy and her head even more jumbled than it had been before. She slumped back against the wall, her hands shaking.

It was warm. Much, much too warm.

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON.**

The storm hadn't really lightened, but Nicolette knew that she needed to try to get to rehearsal, as Barb hadn't called to cancel. She left her building quietly, a heavy coat wrapped around her body. Nicolette's umbrella hung limply at her side; the wind was far too strong to even attempt opening it. Nicolette ran down her street, shielding her face as best she could against the occasional hail pellet.

Thankfully, the trains were still operational. Once she reached the station she gladly climbed into the cold, but dry interior. It was almost empty. Nicolette settled in a seat near the door, cautiously watched the only other passenger, who was trying to discreetly watch her. Another flash and a peal of lightning and the man jumped to his feet.

"Don't touch me." Nicolette warned, springing to her feet as well. Muggings in Gotham were almost commonplace as of late, but you never knew how far things were going to go. Nicolette left her bags by the seat as she backed up.

"Come without a struggle. No harm will be brought upon you if you comply. You should be honored." Nicolette kept her distance. The man's eyes were practically glazed over and he spoke in a coo-like whisper. _When will this train stop?_ Nicolette thought in a panic. Her heart was beating in her chest. _I'm a good fighter, but not against a 6'6' man that's probably twice my weight. In an enclosed space. _

"What are you _talking _about?" She questioned, trying to bide herself some time.

"It's an honor to be chosen. You'll have a new life." Nicolette tried to avoid his dead-looking eyes, by glancing out the window. The station was approaching. The man followed her glance, realized that his time was almost up, and made a lunge for Nicolette, who merely dodged him and made a punch for his ribs.

"If you haven't gotten the idea, I'm obviously _not_ interested." Nicolette used her palm to smash his nose, but he was able to corner her and land a solid punch near her temple. Nicolette fell, rapidly blacking out as the blood trickled from her temple. The man fled, knocking past several drenched businessmen waiting on the platform.

"Someone call 911!" A man yelled, entering the train and seeing Nicolette. A frenzy of activity erupted as another person went to signal the shutting down of the train. It took a full seven minutes for the ambulance to arrive, due to the horrid conditions outside. The paramedics rushed up to the terminal, carrying a portable stretcher with them. Once they loaded Nicolette up and placed a towel over her face, they rushed off heading towards the newly rebuilt, Gotham General.

30 MINUTES LATER…

Nicolette found herself in a bright room, the overhead fluorescents too bright for her eyes. Her head throbbed and she wasn't thinking quite straight. Looking around, Nicolette surveyed her surroundings.

She was able to declare her location to Gotham General, that was pretty obvious. The room was nice and small. The walls were a new, freshly painted white. Nicolette heard bustle in the hall outside her closed door. Next to the bed was the usual: heart monitor, I.V. drip, the works. Nicolette put a hand gingerly to her left temple and was shocked to feel the smooth ridges of stitches.

_That sonnvabitch must've gotten me pretty well. _The area around the stitches felt swollen and tender.

"Miss, please refrain from irritating your wound." A nurse walked into the room, carrying a clipboard with her. Nicolette lowered her hand in silence. "It's good that you're up. Your parents are here to see you."

"Really?" _Jeez, it was just a cut. _Nicolette laid her head back, already dreading this oncoming altercation.

"If you don't feel up to visitors we don't have to allow them entry." The nurse checked the stitches, sprayed some kind of antibiotic on the area, and then stepped back again.

"No it's alright. They can come in." A minute or two later, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson entered the room. Nicolette's father, Terry, was tall and still had a head full of grey hair upon is head. He was well dressed in a sport coat and black trousers. His glasses were perched upon his nose as he skeptically surveyed the room. Nicolette's mother, Pamela, stood at a medium height. Her hair was graying, but still held the same color of blonde that Nicolette had. She was dressed in a maroon blazer and black jeans. Her face held an air of wisdom, yet still managed to be snotty.

"Dear, what in the world happened?" Pamela sat by the bed, making sure her knees were crossed and her hands were positioned daintily in her lap.

"It's really not a big deal Mother. A man tried to jump me on the train." "Well he obviously did." Her mother examined the slight head wound with distaste.

"He didn't take anything of mine. He got in a lucky punch is all. I defended myself."

"I don't like you taking the train. I told you we would get you a car if need be." Terry finally spoke up.

"Dad, really, it's not a big deal. Much worse has happened in Gotham before." Her dad didn't reply, but sat back with a scowl.

"Where _were_ you going anyway? This weather is simply dreadful." Nicolette felt the urge to roll her eyes. Her parents probably never felt a drop of rain, seeing as they had dedicated drivers and footmen.

"Rehearsals."

"I don't understand why you're doing this Nicci. I _told _you there's plenty of opportunities for you at the Uni. You could stop all this running around, get out of that _dreadful_ community college and-"

"Mother. You _know_ why I do what I do. Please, drop my career choices alright? I have a splitting headache and I really don't feel like doing this now." Pamela shut up after that.

"Nicci, dear, there's a policeman that would like to talk to you, if you don't mind. He wanted us to precede him though, to see how you were feeling." "I'm fine. He can come in." Her parents quickly got up, leaving Nicolette to her own devices. Mostly, she just tried to ignore the pain that was now radiating from her head. Nowadays her parent's constant disapproval was usual; it barely scratched her shell anymore.

"Miss Anderson?" A voice came from the doorway. Nicolette immediately looked up and recognized Commissioner Gordon; she'd seen him on the television as well as the covers of the newspapers.

"Commissioner?"

"Gordon." He had a small smile on his face as he walked towards the bed and sat down in the small chair next to her.

"I hope you're doing well, considering the circumstances." He offered her his hand, which she accepted quickly. The Commissioner looked like a decent, hard-working man. His glasses covered the bags under his tired eyes, but Nicolette could tell he worked like a madman. He possessed a kind face though, which meant a great deal.

"I'm fine, really. It's just a scratch."

"Well I'm going to need to collect a report from you, just a few questions really. If you're a little muddled about exactly what happened, it's alright. You can always contact me later." Nicolette nodded in response.

"Could you give me a physical description of the man? Any distinct traits?"

"He was really tall. Nearing seven foot I'd say. So tall that when you saw him you'd immediately feel ant-sized. He was bald as well. Heavy, but in a muscular way. His eyes… they were almost dead-looking. Almost like he was drunk or on some sort of trip."

Gordon nodded and noted everything that she had said.

"That's good. Now, if you can give me a recount of the encounter, that would help a ton."

"I entered the train and sat near the exit. No one else was on board, except him. I noticed that he was watching me, so I put myself on guard. Eventually he just sprung up and I did as well. It all happened so fast. He started talking really strangely saying stuff like 'come with me, you won't be harmed.' Stuff like that." Nicolette paused as Gordon tried to catch up with her words.

"Anything else?"

"He told me something like 'I'll have a new life.' I know this sounds ridiculous… Then it just sort of broke into a fight. He managed to get a good punch at my head." She motioned to her temple and scowled.

"Thank you so much for your time. I wish you a speedy recovery. If you remember anything else, please call me." He handed her his card from the department. Gordon shook her hand again and began to leave, but stopped before he left the room. "Miss Anderson, I'm just passing out some friendly advice here… but watch yourself on these streets. Gotham hasn't been rid of it's scum just yet."

"Thanks for the tip. I've been keeping up on all the news." Gordon frowned, his eyes filling with sadness. He tapped the door frame, nodded at her, and departed.

"I guess things are worse that I thought." Nicolette whispered as her room was filled with silence once again. The rain was still pounding outside.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

The day inside had been sheer torture for Bruce. He wandered the halls of the manor, worked out, showered, avoided Alfred's constant naggings on him eating more, and sat in the cave. The rain hadn't let up any.

_Maybe I could call…no… that would just be weird._

"You're Bruce Wayne. Man up." He told himself. The phone was in reach. "It's just a phone call." He dialed her number and waited for the ringing to end and her voice to respond.

"Hello?" It wasn't the voice he wanted though.

"Is Nicolette there?" He was slightly confused. "It's Bruce."

"Oh _you._" A sigh followed. "No, she's not here."

"Is this Marina?" He thought her voice sounded slightly Hispanic.

"Yes it is Bruce. What exactly is it that you needed?"

"I was just wanting to talk to Nicolette… do you know how I can get a hold of her?" This idea of his was slowly failing.

"I do, but she's not exactly up for taking leisure calls right now." Another sigh. "She's in the hospital. I'm getting some clothes for her." This was news to Bruce.

"Is she alright? What happened?"

"Some behemoth on the train tried to mug her I guess. She would've been fine, but he was able to get in a lucky punch… _you _know how well she fights." Marina laughed, but stopped fairly quickly. "But it's nothing serious. The doctors just want to observe her for a night, make sure she doesn't have a concussion y'know."

"Right. Well tell her I said to get better soon. We _still _have our date on Friday."

"_Date! Since when! Oh my god. She is going to hear about this. Sorry Bruce, but I've really got to go." _The line disconnected and Bruce was left with the dial tone.

"Women." He rolled his eyes and put the phone back on the hook. In his mind though, he was worrying about this mugging. Nicolette was a strong fighter, which meant that this man must've been huge and decent. _What did Marina call him… a behemoth? _

"What is going on in Gotham?" He murmured, directing his stare out the window. The rain was barraging the windows and the lightning was almost enough to light a whole room. Something was brewing out there. He could feel it.

* * *

There we go. Chapter five. I know it's not all that grand, but for leaving this piece alone for about two and a half months and then picking it up again... I thought it was ok. I added a little different point of view, which I enjoyed writing.

Please, review. If you review I'll be more motivated to sit here and write for you. I need to know someone still wants to read this.

-K


	7. Chapter Six

First of all, let me just express how much your reviews have meant to me. A LOT. So I really wanted to get this out earlier. And I failed. I'm disappointed with myself, but stress and school have popped up again so it's been hard. Thank you for your patience with me.

**Shoutouts to: KRDiva1 (who double-reviewed), Marissa, and Skatinggirl2011, and Addy for reviewing! Also, thank you to all those who alerted and favorited!**

ON WITH THE SHOW!

* * *

_**KRYSTEN HALLOWELL**_

Nothing seemed clearer to Krysten. In her mind's eye, everything was more confusing. For most of the day, the men left the girls alone in the stone room. Their only job was to keep the fire ablaze throughout the day; it wasn't a challenging job. Hardly any words were uttered through the passing hours. Krysten tried to make some kind of contact, seeing as she still had some competence left in her. Every girl shut her down.

At noon, the men arrived in their usual floor-length robes and offered them the goblets to drink from. Trays of food were presented, but Krysten and the other girls always seemed to lack an appetite. They continued to sit in silence.

All was basic until the first night of Krysten's stay in the inner circle. When the men arrived, they had with them two torches and a robe colored gold. They walked in their shadowy group towards the line against the back wall, a faint murmur coming from the depths of the group. As they stopped, it was silent.

"Dearest daughters. Tonight one of you shall cross over and have this life burned out of you and new life whispered into your soul. Who deigns to change tonight?" The words were cooed, but had a sharp edge to them. The girls all remained silent, but passed a few silent looks between them. No one wanted to go. Though Krysten had not been in this group long enough to find out that no girl ever returned, she knew better than to volunteer.

"Not one of you is ready to leave this foul world of sin?" His words weren't cooed any longer. Now they were spat at them. A highly uncomfortable silence settled around the room for the next few minutes. The girls breathed as quietly as possible while the men stood there and sighed.

"We are offering you the chance to being anew. That's why you're here." His words were once again calm.

"I'm ready." A girl towards the beginning of the line stood up, shaky on her feet. Idly, Krysten wondered how long it hand been since she stood.

"My dear." The man embraced her and they led her away at a rapid pace. Two men stayed though, and passed the cup around as usual. When Krysten tasted the liquid though, it was extra strong. Almost immediately her eyelids drooped and she felt her whole body just go limp. She felt awfully tired.

The screaming started about an hour later. There were long drawn out screams and then just a few short high-pitched bursts. Then it was over. The other girls barely flinched, but Krysten was tormented. A little warning flashed through her mind telling her that she had to get out of here. It wasn't an option.

* * *

_**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**_

Nicolette was groggy when she woke up that morning. Her head felt even worse than it had the night before. Next to her bed a tray of food sat, waiting to be devoured by her. She tore into the toast, though it was cold, with immense fervor.

"It's nice to see you're awake Miss Anderson. I've come to inform you that you'll be returning home today." A young-looking doctor entered the room as she was swallowing her toast. Nicolette blushed in spite of herself; he was quite attractive. Dark blonde hair, striking green eyes, a _doctor_.

"Oh that's good then. I have a lot to do." She murmured.

"I've prescribed you some medication for the pain." He said as he gingerly checked her stitches. Nicolette relished the feeling of his tender fingers. "Just take it easy for a few days. I'll be in contact to set up an appointment to take these stitches out. That gash on your head was a good one."

"It sure was." She muttered, still angry that she had allowed that punch to connect. "But thank you Doctor." She smiled at him while he smiled at her.

"Take it easy." He shook her hand and exited the room. Nicolette returned to her breakfast, now taking time to slow down and _eat, _rather than _inhale._ She started making a checklist of things she'd have to do today.

First off, she needed to talk with Barb, since she'd missed yesterday's practice. Then of course she had to cancel class at the college. _I hope missing yesterday won't affect my performance too much…_ She worried. In a few weeks the actual performance would be talking place and Nicolette was locked in for one of the main roles. _I'd rather be punched a thousand times by that man than forfeit this opportunity._ She sipped her bland orange juice while contemplating what to do next. Her clothes were in the chair next to her, flung there from Marina's rage; Nicolette was still recovering from her insane rant the night before.

-_She walked in silently, carrying a small duffel bag containing essential toiletries and some overnight clothes._

"_Thanks Mar, I really appreciate it." Marina just dropped the bag on the chair and stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed. "Mar what is it?" Nicolette sat up, the smooth covers wrinkling as she did so._

"_How could you not tell me 'Lette? It hurts- it really does."_

"_What? What haven't I told you?" What Marina proceeded to say was the farthest thing from Nicolette's mind._

"_Why didn't you tell me you're going out on FRIDAY, with BRUCE, FREAKING, WAYNE!" Her naturally tan face took on a reddish hue._

"_Shh, Mar, we're in a hospital." A moment of silence passed. "I'm sorry, ok, I didn't realize It was such a big deal. I haven't been thinking about it really."_

"'_Lette, do you even REALIZE who it is that's taking you? Bruce. Wayne. He isn't some 'average Joe.' You can't tell me you haven't been thinking about it."_

"_Well I have been-but I mean- it's not on the forefront of my mind."_

'_I'm assuming he's taking you somewhere fancy." Now Marina started pacing. Nicolette took this as the falling action of her spiel, so she fell back against the pillows. "What're you wearing?"_

"_Um… I don't know? I'll recycle my black dress I guess."_

"_No, no, no." Marina made a disgusted face. Nicolette sighed. "I have a dress. It's red, floor-length, and will hug you like a glove. It's perfect. I haven't even worn it yet."_

"_Maaaar." Nicolette whined._

"_Nope, it's settled. You'll look stunning." "Fine." There was no point in fighting Marina's iron will. "Mar… how did you find out anyway?"_

"_Hm?" Marina paused in her pacing. "Oh, Bruce called."_

"_What? You… talked to BRUCE?"_

"_I was very polite, thank you." Marina laughed and finally sat down in the chair next to Nicolette's bed._

"_How's the head?" She asked._

"_Killing me, but that can't be helped."-_

Now Nicolette found herself thinking of Friday night, of Bruce. She almost called him from the hospital after she learned he had called her, but she didn't have his number handy.

"Well, time to get going." Nicolette propped herself out of bed, grabbed her bag and shuffled into the bathroom. She felt gross without a shower, but she made herself presentable for human eyes. Marina had brought her jeans and a comfortable sweater, which she quickly changed into. _Time to go face Barb._

An hour later Nicolette stood in front of that menacing brick building. It was Tuesday… or was it Wednesday? A quick recount assured Nicolette that it was, indeed, Wednesday.

"Let's get this over with." She pushed the doors open, walked past the receptionist, and into Barb's office.

"Barb, look I'm really sor-" Barbara turned around in her desk chair, away from the computer.

"Nicolette are you ok!" She gasped, her eyes immediately going to the stitches. She stood and scurried around the desk.

"Yeah, well. I got in an altercation on the train yesterday…. While I was headed here actually." Nicolette said with a sheepish grin.

"Why on earth were you headed here? Practice was cancelled hun."

"What?"

"I sent out a call… after I had talked to you previously. The weather just was too bad."

"I must've not received it… or maybe I was already gone."

"Our receptionist isn't very… on key." Barb remarked. She looked insanely guilty though. "Is your head alright? Will you be ok to practice?"

"Yeah yeah don't worry about me. I'll be in tip-top condition for performance day. I'm going to work extra hard to make up for yesterday."

"Don't run yourself too hard dear. You're already ahead of schedule. Don't worry about it." Nicolette nodded, but she was already headed for the studio.

It was a fairly decent day, yet it was still unnaturally chilly. Nicolette walked with a purpose, almost nervous about the upcoming train station.

"It's the middle of the day. I'm fine." She assured herself as she quickly climbed the stairs. Nicolette waited on the platform, comfortable with the various business men and women around her. The train arrived and they were on their way. Nicolette sat by the door and departed as soon as possible.

As she hurried down the street, an odd occurrence became aware to Nicolette. There were more cars than there were pedestrians, which was unusual for this section of town.

"Strange." She mumbled to herself. The studio loomed before her, but she happily pushed open the door. From the office she heard Marina muttering to herself in Spanish.

"Mar?" She called, slowly opening the door.

"'Lette? What're you doing here? You should still be sleeping. It's only nine-thirty!"

"They let me out early." Nicolette dropped her stuff by her desk. Her head was really pounding now.

"Well go home! You need sleep for _Friday._"

"Pish-posh. I have some important phone calls to make." _Definitely the pharmacy. _

"Well," she sounded slightly nervous. "If you hurry, I'll give you a ride. Dan is coming to pick me up at ten."

"Oh I'm fine. I have to stop at the pharmacy anyway." Nicolette really didn't want to be stuck in a car between Marina and Dan. The still acted like teenagers in 'loooooooooooove.'

"'Lette, please, things are getting-" Marina gasped. "Wait, you don't _know _do you?"

"Know what, exactly?" Marina flung a newspaper at Nicolette, who caught it haphazardly.

"Read." She instructed.

_Another body has been found. No identification has been made, other than the confirmation that it is, indeed, another teenage girl. Her charred remains were found in our own business district downtown._

Nicolette paused to read the address and was shocked that it wasn't far from the Studio.

_Police are still looking for several missing girls, including last weeks disappearance of Krysten Hallowell. Lucy __de Grigiano_ _has been returned to her parents by her own will. No further details have yet to be released…_

Nicolette pushed the paper away from her.

"What's going on in Gotham Mar?"

"I don't know anymore… Please, just let us drive you home." Nicolette nodded mutely. "We'll stop by the pharmacy. It's no trouble." Nicolette reached for the phone. One, to call the college to cancel class for today, and two to ring the pharmacy. She'd definitely be needing those pills.

* * *

_**BRUCE WAYNE**_

Bruce never left the cave after he returned from the night's work. _He _let another girl die. _He _failed to get there on time. The news provided assurance to these thoughts as he sat in the darkness, listening to the bats screeching high above his head.

The night had been a cold one, raining still after the sun had set. Batman had set off with a plan and an idea of where the Phoenix's compound _had _to be located. He was wrong. The Narrows held no answers for him for him last night. Not one suspicious person roamed the streets or alleyways in the dismal drizzle. No smoke rose from the various smokestacks. Batman just didn't know where to look. Neither did Bruce for that matter.

Only when he returned home, to his cave underneath the splendorous manor above, did he realize where he should've been looking. Downtown, in the business district. The images he saw sickened him to his core. Alfred tried to speak with him, but Bruce brushed him off. It felt like the same scene replaying day after day for Bruce, and he just didn't know what to do. He fell asleep at the computer desk in the early hours of the morning.

Bruce awoke by himself and a quick glance to the computer screen told him it was nearing noon. For some reason, Alfred hadn't even attempted to rouse him from his troubled slumber. _Odd… _Bruce pushed himself out of the cushiony desk chair and shivered. He'd stayed in the same wet clothes all night; not good.

"I can't afford to get sick now. I never get sick." He muttered to himself as the lift crawled upwards towards the study.

"Master Wayne?" Bruce found Alfred reading in a large armchair within the study.

"Alfred, you didn't get me up today." He murmured.

"I figured I'd leave you until you had fully rested. You seemed rather troubled when you came back this morning." Bruce only nodded in agreement. The graying man placed his book on the arm rest and looked at Bruce with worry.

"I'm just," Alfred's gaze shook Bruce for a moment. "I'm going to go take a hot shower. Would you be able to have my shake ready when I'm done?" Bruce almost felt bad for asking, but he knew that Alfred would have no qualms to his request.

"Of course." Almost immediately Alfred sprang up from his chair, leaving the book propped open.

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce left the room, wanting nothing more than to be engulfed by the warm waters of his shower. His clothes were stuck to them and he felt horrible all over. After quickly peeling off the gritty underclothes that he wore with the Batsuit, Bruce examined himself in the mirror. He looked gaunt. Tired, scared, and frustrated. Dark bruises littered his skin, but he didn't even worry about those anymore. A small part of him asked why he had taken up this mantle? Why had he chosen this life for himself? _I'm doing it for Gotham. For the people. _The larger, stronger side of him chanted these words like a prayer. _I need stop the Phoenix. Soon._

It didn't take long for Bruce to clean himself up, but he still felt grimy afterwards. He found Alfred in the massive, yet welcoming kitchen that he had grown up in. Although the mansion had been rebuilt, everything was the same, just as Alfred had said it would be. Some parts still haunted him, like his bedroom, or his parent's old one. The kitchen though, had always been a happy place full of laughs and stolen cookies and fond memories of- _Rachel._ A sigh escaped his lips that Alfred didn't miss.

"Your shake Sir." Bruce kindly accepted the beverage and sat down at the long island in the center.

"Have you ever felt completely hopeless Alfred? Hopeless, yet you know that you can't just quit?" He wished that his old friend would have some old anecdote that would bestow some wisdom upon him.

"I have Master Wayne. And it was right after your parent's died." Bruce inhaled sharply, but didn't say anything. "I didn't know what to do. I was still in a bit of shock from the deaths to be honest. And now here I was, in my mid sixties, left with a child whom I cared dearly for. But I had also lost my two closest friends. I didn't know what to do, and though you may not remember it quite clearly, I trudged on and raised you the best I could. And if I do say so myself, I think you turned out quite proper. And I know my struggle is considerably less than yours, it's very much the same." With that, Alfred took a sip of his tea and a small smirk grazed his face. Bruce nodded, Alfred's words having done a small miracle on him and he smiled.

"Thank you Alfred."

"Anytime Sir." And then the phone rang. Alfred moved to answer it, more of a reflex than anything else, but Bruce answered it in the end.

"Hello?" Internally he was hoping for a certain person to respond, and he could've just checked the caller I'd, but he'd prefer the surprise.

"Hello, Bruce?" Sure enough, Nicolette's slightly wary voice was on the other line.

"Nicolette? How are you are you-"

"Listen Bruce I'm really sorry for whatever Marina may have said to you. She's just really hotheaded and her censoring isn't that perfect."

"No, no, you don't have to apologize for anything!" He couldn't fathom why she thought she needed to apologize. "I'm actually really glad you called. I was worried about you."

"Oh," She sounded abashed and her pause showed it. "Thanks for your concern. I'm alright though. Just a few stitches on my forehead." Bruce released a silent breath of relief.

"If you want, we could reschedule for Friday."

"Actually no. I'm really looking forward to it." He wasn't quite sure, but he felt like he could actually feel her smile.

"Well I'm definitely not going to complain. And I mean, who knows when I'd get the chance again. With your crazy schedule and all."

"I'm a very busy woman, so you shouldn't complain. It's a rarity I'll make such allowances as I am now." She returned his playful jibe, which made him chuckle.

"Alright. I'll count my blessings. I'll see you on Friday."

"Good bye Bruce. See you then." She laughed once more and then they both hung up.

"I take it Miss Anderson is well?"

"Well enough to not cancel our plans." Bruce turned to Alfred with a smile.

"Quite good Sir. Now if you don't mind. I'll be returning to my book." Alfred smiled back at Bruce, a twinkle in his eye.

* * *

**ALRIGHT! So that didn't completely suck did it? Once again, I'm sorry for how late this is and if I've let you guys down.**

**BUT. The next chapter will contain the ~super special~ Friday night date. And I've actually got a little bit written. So I'm crossing my fingers that I can get it out faster than...five months.**

**I know I don't deserve them, but please review! **

**Also leave any suggestions that you might have!**

**-K**


	8. Chapter Seven

Note: I do not own anything Batman related, all that goes to DC and the wonderful Christopher Nolan. I only own my original characters and plot. C:

So after months (eight yes I _know)_ of waiting…. Here we go? Yeah yeah I know that it's been too damn long, but life catches up and yep. But I've really tried to make this a long and decent chapter for you all!

And I've noticed that this story contains a lot of phone conversations…. Let me know, do you guys mind or should I find a way to cut back on them? I need you to let me know!

P.S. If you go to my profile, there's a link to a collage I made of Nicolette's outfit for the date! Check it out if you want! :)

Thanks to all my reviewers and all those that favorited and alerted!

Get ready for some sexay time.

* * *

_Friday…_

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

The rest of week was a throbbing blur. Nicolette's head didn't really hurt once the drugs kicked in, but the craziness surrounding her did. Marina wouldn't let her take the train to or from the studio, which meant that Nicolette was in Marina's sight for the better part of the day. Not to mention that she still had rehearsal and her normal workouts. She'd cancelled her classes for the rest of the week, just to give herself a break; she never cancelled class and the college administrators understood her predicament. Ever since the attack on the train and the murder right downtown, things had changed. Everyone in Gotham seemed to retract a little.

For now though, Nicolette just checked her locked door an extra time before bed and left it at that. She had just done so when her phone rang. Nicolette jumped a bit and then laughed at herself for doing so.

"Hello?" she breathed into the phone.

"Nicolette, it's Bruce." He sounded nervous to Nicolette's ear.

"Bruce? Is everything alright?"

"Oh yeah, yeah. I was just…just making sure that you're still up for tomorrow." Nicolette laughed.

"The mighty Bruce Wayne is afraid he's going to get stood up?"

"Well...no. But I mean-"

"Have a little more faith in me that that Bruce. Although… I am going to be at the studio all tomorrow and I may not get off in time to run home…" She trailed off, just to tease him.

"And?"

"Can we meet somewhere? And then you can use your fancy car to take me wherever it is that we're going." She heard him sigh.

"Well, alright. I was expecting you to twist our plans around your schedule anyway."

"Hey!" Nicolette interjected.

"It's the truth Nic, come on." His pet name was slightly condescending, on purpose.

"Oh Brucie, I know it's the truth. I'll meet you whenever and wherever you wish. She made her voice into a sugary sweet Barbie voice that she hoped Bruce would hate.

"How about the lobby of my penthouse building? It's only a few floors away from me, so it won't be any inconvenience. Shall I send a driver to fetch you?"

"No, that's quite fine. Poor old me can trudge the Gotham streets alone."

"See you then sweetie pie. 7:30, don't be late." His voice was acidic.

"Oh I wouldn't miss it for the world." Nicolette hung up and immediately slid down to the floor, crippled with laughter.

"Sweetie pie!" She exclaimed, not be able to contain her amusement. For now, the headache had faded away. Something that Nicolette hadn't experienced in quite some time was started to plague her: butterflies. Nerves. Anxiousness.

_Gah, a date. With Bruce. I haven't been on a date in years. And a fancy date nonetheless. _Nicolette's eye wandered towards the clock.

"Almost ten, time for me to get some beauty rest!" She said, mimicking all the stereotypes as shown on TV. Nicolette cleaned up her things from the living room, double checked the locks once more, and headed into her bedroom.

It was the sight of her crumpled black dress, bundled up pitifully in a corner that made her freak out.

"The dress! I never got it from Mar!" _I can't go on the date wearing this old thing…_

Figuring it was too late to call Marina or get her dress dry-cleaned, Nicolette set off in a frenzy. Soon the ironing board was propped up in the middle of the room, a steaming iron sitting atop it.

"Oh you poor thing… Nicolette murmured, lifting the sad sight of a dress off the floor. _I'll never get all the wrinkles out. _The dress itself looked terrible. It probably _shouldn't _have been sitting in a crumpled heap for a week, and it showed. A valley of wrinkles and creases spread across the fabric like a map.

"Wonderful," she said acerbically. Nicolette spread the dress out on the table, ready to attack it with her iron and the power of steam….right when her phone rang. She answered with one hand, still figuring out the best strategy to assault this mess.

"Hello?" Nicolette wedged the phone between her neck and her ear, needing both hands to viciously iron the dress.

"Lette? What're you doing?" A flash of steam enveloped Nicolette, causing her to erupt in a fit of coughing.

"Um, I'm just, uh, doing some ironing." She tried to say it as smooth as possible.

"Ironing?" Marina said flatly.

"Yeah, ironing. What a woman can't iron when she wants to?"

"You wouldn't, by chance, be ironing a black dress would you? And you wouldn't be ironing said black dress because you forgot to come pick up the red dress….hmm?"

"Uh…no. I just felt the need to get some ironing done tonight…no special reason." Butterflies danced around in Nicolette's stomach._ How does she always know what I'm up to? It's like she has a sixth sense! _

"Bull shit. Listen, I'm shooting over there now to drop the dress off.

"Mar, you don't have to do that. A certain black dress is just dying to be ironed and worn to a fancy restaurant."

"Oh Nicolette, you're in denial. I must do this. Do you realize that tomorrow, _tomorrow_, you're going on a date with _Bruce Wayne?_I will not allow you to go on said date in that sad little dress."

"Bruce won't mind what I wear! I could show up in yoga pants and he wouldn't notice!"

"Oh dear. It's worse than I thought. I'm almost here now." She hung up, leaving an exasperated Nicolette with the dial tone.

"Yay." The iron let loose another explosion of steam, causing Nicolette to cough again. _Damn thing._ She ripped the plug from the wall, blatantly ignoring proper plug-pulling etiquette, and walked back into the living room.

"It looks like a torture scene in here!" Marina called from the bedroom. Nicolette sighed. _She must've found the ironing board dilemma. _"Oh this poor dress! What've you done to it?"

Nicolette didn't even bother responding. With one final zip she had successfully managed to get herself into the dress Marina had brought her. They were usually the same size, but Marina tended to buy on the…tighter side.

"Ok I'm coming out." Nicolette shuffled out of the bathroom, avoiding looking at herself in the mirror.

"Oh, muy caliente. Damn girl, you have it. This date is yours. _All yours." _Marina began what Nicolette could only describe as fawning, while she just rolled her eyes.

"Did you even look at yourself?" When Nicolette didn't answer, Marina continued. "Why must you be so impossible Lette?"

"If you can't handle me at my worst, you don't deserve me at my best." She muttered, smirking. Mar exclaimed something in Spanish and then huffed a sigh.

"Ok, I really have to be going. Now. If I don't see you tomorrow, be safe and have fun. And _do not_ give me that look. You know what I mean." Mar winked and then took a few strides towards the door. "But Lette, no matter how _fun_things may get…please bring my dress back in perfect shape. No more of that." She pointed to the black mess that was now hanging over a chair.  
"Alright, fine fine. Now out! I need rest!" Marina left, still with a concerned look for her dress written all over her face. Once she was gone, Nicolette threw the lock and headed back to the bathroom. She had a six o'clock practice in the morning.

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Another uneventful night. Another night with no new leads or a single goddamn _scrap _of information. _At least no one died tonight. _Bruce ripped the cowl from his head, throwing it onto the floor of the bunker. He didn't want to go back to the cave tonight, didn't want to see Alfred's deeply understanding and concerning face, didn't want to be plagued with memories of the good times. _I came here to wallow._

Bruce sat down in a chair that he had recently relocated from the cave to here. The bunker looked mostly the same, minus the expansive supercomputer. After the first Phoenix attacks he'd reinstated it, wanting as many places to go as possible. He wasn't sure if Alfred or Lucius knew, but at the moment he didn't really care. A part of him still yearned for mourning, which he'd denied himself. He had a purpose and right now it wasn't that. Someday, when he could give up this mantle, he would. He'd mourn for Rachel, Harvey, and his parents. All the people he couldn't save.

"God what am I doing?" Bruce closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cool leather headrest. He feels like he's stuck in the repeat cycle of a washing machine. Sleep, wake up, pretend, Batman, frustration, and then eventually sleep again. There he sat, carefully contemplating the black threads of his life. Bruce eventually fell into a dreamless sleep, still sitting up in the chair.

Alfred knew Master Wayne wouldn't be coming back to the Manor that morning, and after a quick stop to the Bruce-less penthouse, he only knew of one more place to check. Alfred filled a paper bag with some necessary breakfast goods (fresh-baked that morning too), and set off. _I should just stop cooking for him. My food just goes to waste everyday. _

Alfred whistled a slightly cheery English tune from his childhood as his loaded himself into his most prized _possession: _his glorious Rolls Royce. He started driving towards the last place he could think of. He had been fairly certain Master Wayne had abandoned the bunker, but there was no other place that the Batman could take refuge if he didn't want to occupy the cave.

Alfred drove towards the river, glad that the morning traffic had not built up yet. He took his time, watching the twinkling blues of the river pass by outside. In the distance, the large gated 'Wayne Enterprises' facility loomed. He'd feel a bloody fool if he took at that time to navigate the labyrinth of buildings only to find that Bruce wasn't there. He is gut told him that he was though.

Once he reached the compound, Alfred stepped out of his vehicle and went to unlock the large chain link gate, only to find it already unlocked.

"So I _was _right." There were only two keys for said lock and Alfred was in possession of one of them. _Bruce must've come here last night then…_ meaning that he was probably passed out in the empty concrete bunker. So now Alfred just threw the gate aside and returned to his Rolls. Once inside, the gate slid back into place and Alfred began the maze of buildings leading to the secret entrance of the bunker. The sprawling compound had two entrances, actually. One was large enough to accommodate the size of the Tumbler while the other was just for…visitors. For now, he just parked and went inside by getting through a series of locks and hidden doors. He finally reached the password-protected lift entrance, which was casually concealed in the warehouse floor.

The lift began to descend and Alfred prepared for the shockingly bright lights to flicker on, but he didn't have too, seeing as the lights were already on. No shocker, the Tumbler was parked haphazardly in the far corner and pieces of the Batsuit were littered in a zigzagged path towards where the supercomputer used to be.

"Master Wayne?" It's not like Alfred was naïve enough to expect a response. His shiny leather shoes clicked pointedly as he crossed the long expanse of concrete before him. Sure enough, his ward was passed out, mouth open and all, in a stiff looking office chair. Alfred set the bag on the floor and promptly shook him awake.

"Wah- Al-Alfred?" Bruce jolted awake.

"Master Wayne, if I may implore you, why must you decide to sleep in the most uncomfortable of places? You do own two _large and luxurious_ beds in two wonderfully convenient locations."

"I- ah…." Bruce seemed more confused and frazzled than he did awake. "What time is it?"

"Eight o'clock. And you have a nine o'clock meeting. Eat something." He picked up the paper bag from the ground and placed it in Bruce's lap. Even with the smells of freshly baked goods wafting towards his nostrils, Bruce still looked at Alfred with wide and slightly glazed eyes. "And here's a fresh change of clothes. I'll be waiting in the Rolls." Alfred, feeling a little bit fresh as well this morning, patted Bruce on the head. "You best wake up Master Wayne. You do have a date to go on tonight."

"Ah, right." Bruce shook his head, trying to clear it of its muffled and incoherent thoughts. "Yeah I'll just, uh, be a moment." Alfred cheerfully walked away, pretending to not notice the slight elation in his ward's eyes at the mention of his date.

* * *

**NICOLETTE ANDERSON**

Practice, practice, practice. That was her morning. When Nicolette left the grandiose brick building in downtown Gotham at noon, she felt worn out, but there was still a patch of butterflies rumbling around in her gut. _Only a few more hours of work and then… yeah._ Nicolette started walking down the street, legs quite sore from the morning rehearsal. The rehearsals for the lead parts of their ballet, yet another rendition of _Giselle, _were growing more intense as the try-outs loomed closer. Nicolette had a feeling she'd end up with a semi-large, but non-lead, part. Although she wanted the coveted part of Giselle, it would be given to a younger girl who could easily pull of the 'fair maiden' façade.

_Enough griping, I have a train to catch! _Nicolette started walking down the block, a little bounce in her step. She only had one afternoon dance class and one class to teach at the college. If she planned correctly, she'd be done around three-ish, and that's _if _the trains were running on schedule. _This gives me plenty of time to make it home, clean up, and get dressed for tonight._

Soon enough she reached the railway platform and was lucky when she was able to board a train right as it was leaving. Still a little anxious, even on a full train, Nicolette stood near the door. Her stop was only second on the list, so it wasn't long before Nicolette was back on the street, close to the studio. Today she only had a children's class, seeing as the older kids were all at school. Nicolette fished her set of keys out of her bag once she reached the door. After a moment of fiddling with all the keys she had the right one popped out and she was quick to slide it into the lock.

She flicked on the lights, left the door unlocked for the incoming horde of children, and then pushed her way into the office. She hadn't been here on Wednesday, forced to take a 'break' by Marina. It was obvious that Mar _had_ been here though. There were papers strewn, a coffee cup here and there, multiple trains of thought about budgeting and marketing on the white board, most of them incomplete. And of course, on Nicolette's desk: a massive pile of post-its.

She picked up the stack and started flipping through them all. They were all scribbled in Marina's nearly illegible shorthand.  
"_Message for Ms. Anderson. Q's about B.W." –Gotham Reporter_

_ "Q's for Ms. Anderson. Possible front page spread. Reply soon." –The Gotham Inquirer._

_ "Possible couple photo shoot with Ms. Anderson and B.W?" –The Gotham Times_

"You have got to be kidding me!" Nicolette tossed the whole wad into the trash bin. _People are ridiculous…and it'll only get worse after tonight. _With a groan, she slumped into her chair. _That's my only qualm about this date. I do _not _want all this attention, merely for going out with a guy. I want to have a front page spread for actually _doing _something. _

Out in the main room, the chatter of a few children and their parents began to echo in the entire building. Nicolette readjusted her the bun on her head, which had been falling slightly, and slipped out of her yoga pants so she only had her dance outfit on. She walked out of the office, a slightly forced smile on her face.

"Hey kids! Who's excited for class today?"

The kids hadn't been excited today. It just so happened to be a rare sunny Friday in Gotham and they would've much rather been outside playing then practicing their plies. By the time they were picked up at one thirty, Nicolette felt like going to sleep for a long, long time. Instead, she changed into work clothes (black slacks, a nice top, and flats), locked up, and headed straight up the block to a Starbucks.

Caffeine was usually only a morning thing for Nicolette, but she felt that today a little extra juice wouldn't hurt. Thankfully the wait time was minimal and she was able to board the two o'clock train headed towards the college, a double-shot espresso in hand. The train was fairly quiet and was void of suspicious figures. Nicolette allowed herself a seat near the exit. She sipped her drink, watching the glittering skyscrapers whoosh past. As the hours flew by, the butterflies in her stomach only grew stronger. She tried to take a few calming breaths so that she wouldn't be all flustered for her class, but it wasn't really working. It seemed those butterflies were in direct accordance with any thoughts she was having about Bruce or tonight, which were happening more frequently as the day progressed.

_Just an hour and then I can get home…_ Nicolette departed her train and started to walk the short distance through the campus. Being the extraordinarily nice Friday that it was, the campus was filled with groups of kids strolling through the large grassy areas and even a few games of Frisbee were going on. As Nicolette made her way to class, she noticed a few stares from students, but she brushed them off; there wasn't anything to get upset about, _right?_

Her classroom was primarily empty when she entered, only a few kids were million around and chatting. Nicolette dumped her bags in her little office and then readied her lecture notes. Today they'd be discussing the Great Purge in Soviet Russia, which was always an interesting topic. Nicolette spent the last few minutes she had rehearsing her notes once more. Once the clock struck 2:15, she cleared her throat and greeted the class. Silently she checked her class roster, noting that the same girls were still missing from her previous classes.

"So, what do we know about the Great Purge?"

An hour and a half later, which was half an hour later than Nicolette wanted to be there, the final student left the classroom. The hour and a half had done nothing to quell her nerves, and now it felt as if a stampede of butterflies were hurtling around in her stomach. Her things were all ready, and once she flicked off the light in her class, Nicolette felt free. The sun was _still_ shining brightly, so Nicolette took her sweet time walking back through campus, allowing the sun to warm her thoroughly. Internally, she was making a schedule of all the things she was going to need to do before her date. She was good at making schedules. Schedules were safe, controllable.

The train was actually on time for once, and Nicolette boarded in a somewhat optimistic attitude. _Tonight won't be so horrid…it'll be nice. I'll get treated for a change. _The ride was short and before she knew it, Nicolette was unlocking the door to her apartment. The clock on the wall proclaimed it to be 4 o'clock on the dot. _3 and a half more hours…_ First things first, Nicolette peeled off her work clothes and then stuff those, along with her work-out clothes, into the washing machine. She figured she might as well wash them now, in case she wouldn't have time later tonight. _Will it be a late night? Gah, I'm going to be so bad at this! I haven't been on a real date in years!_

Once she got the washing machine going (and it was a piece of junk so it took some banging to get it started), she decided a hot bath would be just the thing to calm her nerves. After she added a pinch of fragrant bath salts and a heaping amount of bubbles, Nicolette sank her body into the warm bath. Her tense muscles immediately loosened, the warm water working its magic. The comfort of the bath almost made her want to sleep, which she was really good at doing. Instead, she just closed her eyes and took deep, _calming_, breaths. She didn't know how much time had passed, but once a slight chilly tinge infected the water and most of the bubbles were gone, it was time to pull the plug. Once the water had drained, she turned on the shower to quickly rinse and carefully wash her stitches. They didn't hurt as much as they had, but even the water stung a bit. Once she was completely and thoroughly clean, Nicolette slipped into a fluffy cotton robe. She wrapped up her hair in a towel to complete the look.

Sitting down at her vanity, Nicolette decided what to do with her face. Her hair successfully hid the stitches on her temple, so she didn't have to worry about trying to hide them with makeup or just not hiding them at all. The problem was, Nicolette was not a makeup person. Yes she wore the bare minimum to appear presentable, but sweat and makeup don't usually mix too well, so Nicolette typically went without. But, with the looming threat of cameras and reported, she figured it'd be a good idea to give more advanced makeup a shot.

Her makeup drawer contained the basics: concealer, foundations, some eye shadows, etc, etc. Nicolette applied her base and then some powder. The look still appeared natural, but polished. From all the fashion shows and commercials on TV, Nicolette remembered something about gold eye shadow looking good with blue eyes, so why the hell not? She brushed some on her lids and then layers a slightly darker gold over it. Nicolette as pleasantly surprised with how good it looks. She finished off her eyes with a streak of eyeliner and then some mascara. Overall, she thought she did a damn fine job.

Nicolette shuffled out of the bathroom, wanting to check the time. Thankfully, it was only five thirty, which gave her plenty of time to execute the plan she had for her hair. Fifteen minutes later, Nicolette was boiling some water for tea, her hair entangled in a mass of curlers. Once the kettle started to whistle, she removed it and quickly poured the water into her mug. Tea always seemed to calm her down when her nerves were on the fritz. Nicolette dunked her tea bag under and added a few sprinkles of sugar.

Once done, Nicolette took her mug and went out onto her small balcony. It was just starting to get dusky and she could see the rays of the setting sun glittering off the river. In the distance, Wayne Tower was strikingly bold against the dimming sky. She sighed. From her apartment, Nicolette could see the beautiful, shining skyline of downtown Gotham and then the grungy, smokestack lined sky that was the Narrows. The extreme high-low spectrum of Gotham, right in front of her. Nicolette took a sip of her tea. The familiar earthy flavor immediately had a soothing effect.

With time on the clock ticking away, Nicolette drained her mug and went back inside. She had already laid out her nail polish, a nice shiny black. She sat down at her kitchen counter and began to put on the polish. It took no time at all, but afterwards she was stuck hobbling around, trying not to touch anything.

Once her nails had successfully dried, Nicolette went on back to her bathroom. She still had an hour and she didn't know what to do with herself. Her hair wasn't quite ready to come out of the curlers yet, so she settled on packing a small black clutch with some necessities. That only took a few minutes at the most though, she again she was left with the time predicament. _Oh to hell with it! _The curlers started coming out, one by one leaving gentle waves behind. Her usually pin straight hair was now abundant with soft curls. She used to curling iron to spruce up a few spots, but overall it was a very effective look. With a final touch-up of her makeup, Nicolette was ready for the dress. It was hanging gracefully on the back of the door, the silky material looking rich and splendorous. Nicolette ran her hand down the back, slowly slipping the zipper down. She had to hand it to Marina, she did have very good taste. The dress almost _slid_ on, adhering like glue to the few curves Nicolette did have. Once she had it zipper back up, she closed the door, ready to see how it all looked together.

"Wow…" Nicolette gave herself a bit of a half smile, running her hands down he front, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. She hadn't felt this dolled up in such a long time. Nicolette slipped on a pair of black pumps and then some gold stud earrings. She felt somewhat like a diva. _Something's missing…_ she said with one last glance in the mirror.

"Ah, lipstick!" Nicolette smoothed on a red shade that almost perfectly matched her dress. One more once over and she sighed a mixture of victory and relief. Everything worked perfectly.

"Gah it's almost seven!" In a hurry, she grabbed her clutch and scurried out of her apartment. Thankfully her building had an elevator, so she didn't have to brace five flights in heals. Once she was street side, Nicolette was beginning to contemplate her transportation options, right when a man tapped her shoulder.

"Excuse me Miss, but I'm assuming that you're Miss Anderson. I'm Alfred; I'll be your chauffeur tonight." The elderly gentleman smiled, a twinkle and a bit of a hidden joke in his eyes. He motioned towards a shiny Rolls Royce, of which Nicolette eyed dubiously.

"I assure you Miss, Master Wayne has sent me to fetch you." At this Nicolette lightened up and laughed.

"Leave it to Bruce," she muttered.

"Dinner awaits Miss." Alfred pulled open the door and motioned inside.

"Please Alfred, call me Nicolette."

Alfred enjoyed driving Nicolette to the hotel (and _no_ it didn't have to do with that fact that she didn't get makeup on his seats or babble about Master Wayne's good looks). _Master Wayne was right…she _is_ different._

"How long have you been working for Bruce, Alfred?" Nicolette asked, sitting comfortably in the back.

"Oh I've been working for the Wayne family for quite a long time, longer than you've been alive."

"You obviously enjoy it then?" Alfred smiled.

"Although Master Wayne can be a bit obstinate at times, yes, I have no regrets about my career choice." He saw Nicolette smile in his review window, which elicited a chuckle out of himself.

"You're in for a night. I do hope you've bloody well prepared yourself." She laughed/

"Alfred, it seems with Bruce you can never be prepared."

* * *

**BRUCE WAYNE**

Bruce paced nervously in the elevator as it made its way to the ground floor. This was new. _Bruce Wayne, nervous about a date. _The elevator ride was short and automatically heads turned as he stepped into the lobby, dressed smartly in a perfectly tailored classic black suit. Bruce wasn't five steps from the elevator before he was ambushed by staff asking if he needed anything, _anything at all_. He refused them all, simply stating that he was waiting for someone.

The lobby was buzzing with lavishly dressed people, all gossiping about some new socialite that broke their set of norms. Somehow, they all unconsciously began to gravitate towards him.

_Alfred should be here soon…_ Bruce checked the watch that graced his wrist, glad to see that it was a few minutes to 7:30. It felt weird being on this side of things…being the person _waiting_ for someone else. Not that he minded. As Bruce waited somewhat awkwardly in the lobby, his ears began to pick up on the mind-numbing dross that the others were speaking of, and to his surprise it was about him. The surprising part wasn't that they were talking about him, because _that_ he was used to at this point, but it was that they were talking about Nicolette. _I swear if they're trashing her…_Bruce felt a little outraged. He didn't hear any _negative_ comments from their mouths, but their words were sarcastic and scathing to say the least. Internally, he swore. _The trials and tribulations of life as Bruce Wayne…_ Just as Bruce was about to walk over and interrupt their conversation in a famous Bruce manner, a Rolls pulled up outside. _It's time._

Bruce smoothed down his lapel, adjusted his coat, and took a breath. The Rolls was stopped now and he saw Alfred exit the car and walk around to open the back door. He was grinning like an old fool. The lobby seemed void of its lowly buzz now, and Bruce suspected they were waiting to see who would get out of that car. For once he was in the same boat as them. He watched as Alfred offered her a hand and then as a graceful figure slowly lifted herself from the car.

As she glided, yes _glided,_ into the building, Bruce barely noticed her gorgeous, body-hugging gown or the way her hair was gently curling down her back. All he could see was her face. Once her feet stepped onto the cool marble floor of the lobby, he turned on his charm and sauntered forward, a small smile dancing on his lips.

"You look beautiful," he murmured in her ear as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"You clean up pretty well, too, Mr. Wayne," she said sarcastically. Bruce laughed. _It seems the clothes don't cut down on her bitingly sardonic way of speaking. _

"So are we off?" She asked. He noticed her quietly observing the ogling bystanders. It seemed she, almost unconsciously, held her arms in an attempt to make herself appear smaller, which put Bruce in an internal tizzy. _How can she be self conscious? She's outshining any of them on their best day!_

"M'lady, dinner awaits." Bruce linked arms with Nicolette and led her back out to the car where, like a gentleman, he pulled open her door and gently shut it once she was in. When he slid into his seat, Alfred was halfway through a sentence.

"…sure gave them a good surprise Miss Anderson."

"Oh you know it Alfred. I'm sure they're all calling _The Gotham Times_ right now." Nicolette laughed. _At least I don't have to worry about Alfred liking her._

"So where are we dining tonight Mr. Wayne?" She said in a voice that she probably meant to sound like snobby socialite, but to Bruce it sounded more sultry.

"I'm afraid it's a surprise."

"Will I like it?" She sounded more like herself this time.

"Well I do hope so. The food's far better than the banquet food we dined on the other night."

"Well if it's a step up from that, it _must_ be high class." _Ah there's that sarcastic tone I know and love¸ _Bruce thought immediately, almost laughing out loud. They fell into an easy silence that lasted only a few short minutes and was broken by Bruce remembering something.

"How's your head?" He could've _sworn_ he saw a slight blush creep up her cheeks, but it was getting dark and he just couldn't tell for sure.

"It's ah- fine. I'm fine. I still have the stitches but thank god for long hair right?" She carefully lifted up a portion of her hair to reveal the clean, yet grisly looking stitches.

"Whoever it was got you pretty well." He said, a crease forming between his brows.

"It could've been much worse. I'm thankful that this is all I got away with." Bruce wanted to counter her retort, but Alfred intervened.

"It seems we have arrived." Bruce looked at Nicolette to gauge her reaction. The restaurant he decided to bring her to (the decision had plagued him for _days_) was new, but the reviews were all fabulous.

"I'm afraid, Bruce dear, that I haven't heard of '_L'anneau de Feu.'"_

"Trust me, sweetheart," he smirked at her, "they're fabulous."

"Fabulous? Oh then let's go immediately! Not another minute shall be wasted when I could be in this fabulous restaurant." Alfred opened the door at the right second and offered a hand to Nicolette while Bruce escorted himself out of the car.

'Thank you Alfred." He said, taking Nicolette's hand. "M'lady, are we ready?"  
"Why of course sir!" Nicolette smiled this goddamn _radiant_ smile, which made Bruce question the reality of the moment. _Is this even fair? I haven't done anything to deserve half of what I've got right now. _Bruce guided Nicolette forward, aware of the surprisingly few paparazzi that were clicking their cameras. _Let them, tonight, they can take all the photos they want._

_L'anneau de Feu_ did not only live up to, and exceed, it's reviews, but it provided the perfect atmosphere so that Bruce didn't even have to worry about putting on his 'Price of Gotham' face. He would've hated to do that to Nicolette.

"So Bruce, I've got a question for you." Nicolette swallowed the piece of bread she'd been nibbling on and folded her hands on the table.

"Shoot."

"You don't have to answer, I've just been avidly curious." She paused a moment and Bruce nodded for her to continue. "Those- what- seven years you were gone, where _were _you?" _Thank god. At least that's easily fabricated._

"I was traveling."

"Traveling?" He mhm'd in response and lazily ate a bite of his meal. Nicolette became thoughtful for a moment, absently munching on her own dinner.

"Well it must have been a helluva vacation then." Bruce laughed.

"It was indeed. I mean, I was young. I just wanted to do what I wanted to do. I was…self-centered."

"_Really?" _It came out exceedingly condescending and Bruce knew that she hadn't meant it to sound that way.

"Sorry, that sounded harsh."

"No really, I was but now I'd like to think I've bettered myself." Bruce smiled at her. "But I'm sure you've read my life story. What about _you?" _He tried to hide another smile in the brief pause after his sentence. "I mean, what's your…favorite color?" His plan worked, as Nicolette laughed and some of the awkward tension was relieved.

"I don't have one." She said simply.

"How can you not have a favorite color? Everyone does!"

"I don't see the point in it. One day I'll prefer blue, the next it'll be green. Why does it really matter what my favorite is?" Bruce pondered this for a moment.

"I see your point there."

"That's because my point's correct." She said it so normally that at first Bruce thought she was being serious. A breath passed and then they both erupted into a fit of laughter. Her statement wasn't even that humorous, but their whole evening was just soaking with delight that the laughing wasn't a bit forced.

No words were spoken on the ride back to Nicolette's building, but Bruce really didn't need them. What with the even sound of her breathing and he could've sworn he could hear the faintest heart beat. He caught Alfred's eyes in the rear view mirror more than once, crinkled with joy at the picture that Bruce and she were painting in the backseat. Nicolette' leaning into Bruce's chest, Bruce's arm wrapped around her torso. True, they had both had a few 'drinks' (meaning he had sipped at a very mild bubbly while Nicolette had ordered a few drinks with a little more…kick), but the action felt all too natural.

"Miss Anderson, we've arrived." Alfred's soft voice broke the atmosphere and Nicolette sat up straight and collected her small purse. Bruce took the initiative and opened his door holding out his hand for her to take.

"I shall escort you to your suite madam."

"Oh thank you fine gentleman." She took his hand getting out, but it quickly slid to a position around her waist. The lobby of Nicolette's building was empty, save for the dosing security guard.

"What floor?" He asked when they were inside the lift.

"Five." The pointed ding at each floor indicated their upward journey and soon, _too soon, _they were on floor five. It was just a short walk to Nicolette's front door from there.

"I had a wonderful time tonight." She said, one hand on her doorknob.

"Believe me when I say that this was one of the best nights I've had in a long time." Bruce knew what he was going to do shortly after he actually did it, but the next thing he knew his lips were locked onto Nicolette's and her hands were casually linking around his neck. The kiss was a slow one, neither of them wanting to take it _too _far just yet. After what seemed an appropriate amount of time they broke it, Nicolette laughing faintly.

"A proper ending to a proper date. Goodnight Bruce." She kissed his cheek once and then opened her door and she was gone. Bruce waited until he was in the elevator to exclaim,

"Jesus that woman. She _will _be the death of me." He seemed ready to embrace death though, by the looks of his smile.

* * *

Was that good or was that _good?_  
It's about 2:15 a.m. my time and I WORKED to finish this tonight. I'm rather pleased with it.

So please please REVIEW. Unless you're an author on here you don't understand how much they help.

On another note, WHO IS EXCITED FOR TDKR? I CANNOT WAIT.


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